


Not from the Cookie Cutter

by jaerie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Harry, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bottom Louis, Homeless Louis, I'll add more tags as i go, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentions of Rape, Omega Louis, Protective Harry, References to Knotting, Sexism, Smut, Soul Bond, Top Harry, mentions of abuse, some smut that got dirtier than i intended
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-02-20 05:57:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2417513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaerie/pseuds/jaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the last 5 years Louis has been keeping himself alive.  Deemed an untouchable by society when he was only 14, he had to watch the path he always thought his life would follow be erased before him.  Existing in the shadows of the nice part of town, the picture perfect lives he watches every day are the closest thing he will ever have to a normal life.</p>
<p>Coddled by his mother, Harry is a dreamer.  As hard as he tries to bring himself back to the ground on his father's command, he just doesn't think he has the will power.  </p>
<p>Or Louis is a homeless omega and Harry is an abnormally observant alpha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Louis

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any missed spelling or grammar errors. I expect this work to be split up in aprox. 3 to 4 parts

It is strange how fall always seems like the hardest season to suffer through. The first days of the changing climate always seem especially difficult. After the summer months of warm sunlight and humid nights, the sudden cold biting winds of autumn cut to the bone with a sharpness that is hard to get used to. In a pattern with no method, the tease of a warm day comes only to knock you back with the opposite the next time you step foot outside. Even the months of freezing winter never seem to carry such shock, dry skin and body core already numb to the chill that comes with snow. Amongst the pretty colour of the changing leaves also hangs the theme of death. Shades of browns replace the vivid colours of life around the city which somehow makes everything just that much harder to bear. 

Yes, fall was definitely the worst. Scurrying back to what he called home, it was easy for Louis to see that the changing weather also brought out the worst in people. The cold cement pushed its chill through his nearly worn through sneakers with each step, imitating the temperature of so many people’s hearts he had crossed over the years. He was used to the remarks and comments by now but that didn’t mean they didn’t sting sometimes. The weather was just another excuse for them to take out their bad moods on him; the boy they could insult without consequence. Avoiding eye contact was the best way to go, he’d found out quickly, watching the detail of each sidewalk crack pass under him, arms held protectively around his torso. Though his posture unsuccessfully blocked the wind or the snide remarks, staying as small as possible somehow made him feel safer. 

People didn’t have to ask to know what he was. Even with the scent neutralizers he was sometimes able to save his money for, the second hand clothes that never fit right were rarely in good condition and that alone drew attention to him, a beacon that said he shouldn’t be walking the same streets as them. Their clothing seemed to have jumped directly off the mannequins in the expensive shop windows that lined the streets, their posture and attitudes reflecting the arrogance. He can’t really blame them, though. Memories of his own life in designer clothes and perfect haircuts loomed in his not so distant past like lightly faded photographs. He had been cut from that same mold, sneering at used omegas begging for money, omegas that no alpha would ever want. He remembered scoffing at the alphas that couldn’t provide for anyone, the ones who weren’t real men in the eyes of their society. He wasn’t even exempt from participating in the sexism against betas who were actively fighting for more rights. They weren’t cast out as the failed alphas and omegas were but injustices were there. The beta movements had changed some things since even the days of his parents but they were still the inferior sex, never making as much money as an alpha or even having as many opportunities. They were the social guidelines he had grown up with, ones that he had never spent much time pondering until he was cast out himself. 

He tried his best to slink around the nicer parts of town. Though the noses turned up around him and the echoes of judgment always followed his path, generally he went unbothered. They were too good to spend their time chasing away a street rat, he wasn’t worth the effort. He rarely, if ever, caused any problems anyway. Bringing attention to himself was something he actively avoided. Wandering into the slums had turned into a lesson learned the hard way and he did all he could to avoid repeating that part of his history. Thinking of stereotypical movies and books he had encountered in his life, that section of town had been his first destination to find help at the young age of 14. It had not ended well for him. 

He quickly realized he was different from those in the slums and shelters, though. Refusing to lounge in his own filth, he used his coins to do his raggedy laundry late at the 24-hour laundromat and always tried to keep himself as clean as possible. Sometimes he even had enough money to get into the public pool to use their locker room showers. Those days always felt better than Christmas after the public washroom sponge baths he was used to. He stood under the hot water as long as he could stand it, his emotions running down the drain as he cried in happiness and then in pain over the fact that feeling clean was one of his only sources of joy. 

It had been 5 years since Louis found himself standing on a street corner out of breath and with absolutely nowhere to go. He hadn’t just been told to leave the house that he grew up in. No, his father had chased him down the path, through the gate and down the sidewalk until his age and physical condition left him wheezing to a halt. Still shouting profanities at his back, Louis had kept running. His athletic legs carried him until his lungs burned and he wasn’t quite sure where he was. It had been the first real fear that he had ever experienced in his life. It encompassed his entire body and clenched a vice around his heart which he was sure was near the point of exploding. There he was, 14 years old in a crisp and clean polo shirt with the collar popped that had been washed by his mother with no clue how the real world actually worked. 

In school he had always heard the stories about what usually happened to male omegas. They were so rare, though, that the stories were usually brushed off as urban legends or tall tales told to make you feel unsettled. Other than the spots on the late night news shows about suicide rates, taboo relationships or homeless pests, he had never seen a male omega in his life. Being one of the most popular lads in the school with a strong personality and the presence to back it up, he never had had a reason to think twice about anything he had heard. Besides, all of the males in his family had been alphas anyway, not even a beta in his blood line to his knowledge. His room back home was littered with football trophies and achievements to make any father proud and that was exactly what he had always done. Make his father proud, that is. The promising young alpha-to-be was sure to have his pick of scholarships to anywhere he wanted to go. 

He cringed whenever his father sprang to his mind. All of the memories of happy days seemed like lies to him now. He looked upon them like scenes of a play that no one told him he was a part of, a hidden camera show with him as the pawn. Knowing that they weren’t acting at the time only made it worse to him. His whole childhood had been completely negated with something he couldn’t control, something he never saw coming. 

It left a bitter taste on his tongue that he could never rid himself of though he got better at ignoring it as time passed. His lips press together in a thin line each time he attempts to battle it away, pushing it down as deep as he can though he feels there is so much he has hidden inside that there isn’t room for much else. 

A quick glance at his surrounding finds him sliding his body sideways between two large brick buildings. There was just enough space for his body plus a few inches to move but just small enough that there was no reason for anyone else to venture in. Louis had found this space on accident several months after he had been on his own. It was on a similar fall night, the air biting at his bare neck and making his eyes water, that he had slid his body into the crack attempting to escape the brutal sting. Six feet in and the space widened. It was only several feet across but big enough to sit down. There were no windows on either of the buildings, businesses on the first levels, until the apartment units that started much too high for them to see him curled up there. 

It wasn’t until he had returned several nights that same week that he found a wooden panel that sparked his curiosity. That was how he had found his current and, as far as he could tell, permanent home. It wasn’t much but he was grateful for it. The space was small but he could lay his body across it either way without bending his knees and that alone was a luxury. He assumed it was some type of old root cellar, the passage into the building long since closed off. Clearing away the spiders, dust and left over junk, he had made it his own. It stayed cool during the summertime and at least provided a bit of shelter from the harsh winter winds. 

He lovingly referred to it as his “Hobbit House” and it was the only place he had a feeling of safety. It was the only thing that was consistent in the uncertain life he lived. He never knew where his next meal was coming from, never knew if he could make or find any money each day but at least he knew that each evening he could come back to his small home to hide himself away from the world. The soft glow of candle light was something else he had come to find comfort in. Still not proud of himself for it, digging through trash was a necessary part of how he lived now. Wasteful ways of society became so apparent to him and early on he had found that half melted candles were discarded as easily as an empty cereal box. He imagined the rich omega women taking their long relaxing baths with candles burning, not unlike his mother, before tossing the barely used wax out. There would be a new freshly scented candle waiting for them the next day in the linen closet. It worked out to his advantage, though, providing some light and a bit of warmth to his small home. 

There were many nights where he imagined being one of those omegas. He imagined being rich and kept and taken care of. He had dreams of being loved and wanted and claimed, things he tried not to let his waking self dwell on since he would never have that. He would never have the chance. Young omega girls, ones that were his age even, were cherished, unlike him. They were princesses to their families, especially in the wealthy community he grew up in where traditional values were held so highly. Alphas courted and fought over the chance to take care of them, to bond and mate with the small and dainty submissives. Though he hadn’t seen them in years now, he prayed to every God he had ever heard of that his sisters would present as the pretty omegas his father wanted them to be. He couldn’t bear the thought of any of his beautiful sisters being written off as a useless beta. 

For most of his life even Louis had imagined the type of girl he would choose to court when he presented. If he truly thought about it, he realized that his fantasies had more often centered on the type of alpha he wanted to be to his mate rather than the type of omega he wanted in his life. He imagined himself being a much softer alpha than his father was towards his mother. Hating the idea of using his alpha voice towards someone he was supposed to love, he knew he sided with the progressive movement that was slowly becoming the norm across the world. He had liked the idea of sharing responsibilities of the household together with his mate, finding someone he could share experiences and interests with. 

The omega girls at his school were always throwing themselves at him and his clique. He played along but always found their desperate behaviour unappealing. Everyone knew that his buddies took advantage of it and with the amount of afterschool blowjobs he had received; assuming he did as well wasn’t far off point. As his buddies presented around him, the whispers floating through the football team of how many omegas the lads had talked into letting them knot had started to make him self-conscious. They had still been quite young at the time but that didn’t stop him from jerking off every day trying to force his body to show some type of sign. What he hadn’t realized was that he had been looking for the wrong signs.


	2. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked the idea of separating the chapters like episodes of Skins. So here is Harry.

It's strange how the ticking clock of life moves consistently at the same pace while at the same time morphing speeds for each individual person at different points in time. The wait for the end of a work shift seems murderously slow while the time spent with an infant seems like just a blink of an eye. There are several events in a young person's life that make them want to push the clock forward. In retrospect, the rush to become an adult seems like such a foolish way to disregard youth. Waiting impatiently for a driver's license or for the first time legally ordering an alcoholic beverage hardly seem worth the way carefree days are taken for granted. As hard as one might try, this wisdom all to often falls on deaf ears, the scenery on the other side of the fence far too appealing to pay attention to the present. 

Moving away from home to start university was usually a coming of age event that most young people spent years looking forward to. Each assignment, each test, each early school morning was just another step closer to freedom. Though many students had the wrong idea of what was waiting for them after their carefree lives at home with family, it still didn't stop them for craving that taste of the unknown. In their last years in school particularly, the buzz around the school was filled with plans of shared dorm or apartment spaces, the parties they would have and attend, the freedom to eat ice cream for breakfast and sleep past noon whenever they wanted. With ironically child-like eyes wide and sparkling with dreams for the future, they worked to pass their classes and pack their things, anxious to start their lives.

While most couldn't wait to leave their parents and siblings behind, there was one abnormally tall and clumsy alpha among them who felt the exact opposite. His mum and sister were the most precious and important people in his life. The thought of leaving his mum behind had always made him physically ill if he thought about it too long when he was younger. Retching over the toilet in fierce anxiety, his mum would always come to him, gentle fingers combing through his lengthening curls. She always hummed softly until he was calm, placing a gentle kiss on his temple that made his dimples dent deeply. The comfort he craved from his mother was a need that always demanded attention. Though he had grown enough in recent years to keep better tabs on his emotions, his feelings about leaving home had never changed. 

In a unique family unit, it had been just the three of them for most of his life. Even with the taunting he sometimes received from his classmates, he wouldn't change it even if he had the chance. The two omegas were the most gentle and kind people he had ever encountered and he never took for granted how blessed he was to have them. Of course as a male, the choice to live with his father had always been there. He had even been encouraged by social workers to make the move to his father's new home close to an hour away. A single parent omega home was no place for a young male, they had told him repeatedly. In a family that had separated without a death being involved, social workers were a mandatory part of the process and he hated their involvement. There was no other choice, though, and he was required to visit his father at least 2 weekends a month until he graduated. 

His father was a strong and powerful alpha and in many ways, Harry still admired the man. A successful businessman, he had built his small distributing company after university from the grocery business his grandfather had owned. There would never be a Forbes article about him but he had done quite well for himself in the scheme of things. On his good days, Harry could appreciate what he had done with his life and was thankful for the car he was gifted when he turned 16 and other luxuries it had given him. It was his bad days that made Harry nervously chew his lip through the entire car ride to his home for their mandatory weekend visits. 

Curls had not yet started to form in his light coloured soft hair on the day his family had changed. Even as a 5 year old, barely in school, he had understood the gravity of the situation even if he hadn't been quite sure what was going on. Gender roles were heavily present in every aspect of life and learning from a young age. Omegas were the mothers. Sweet and caring, they raised children, maintained the household and, above all, took care of and obeyed their alphas. Alphas were in charge. Always males and always first in command, their authority was to be respected. More importantly though, alphas were protectors. Keeping their omegas and children safe was a deep running instinct, the same instinct that called them to an omega in the first place. 

With the 6 o'clock news playing across the tv screen behind him, he can still remember in great detail the way his hand paused midair, small chubby fingers grasping the spiderman figurine as his mother fell to the floor in the next room. It had been the first and only time his father's dominance had emerged in a such a physical way towards her but once was already too many times for his strong willed mum. 

With her voice soft and gentle against his ear she had scooped him up off the living room, carrying him up to his room to pack a small bag of things. With three suitcases, his fuzzy blue blankie and many tears they had left his father behind. They had never reunited as a family. From that moment on, his mum had been the center of his world. Perhaps it was the start of his early alpha instincts that had been triggered but he vowed to himself right there that he would protect her forever. 

Now that he was older, he was well aware of the physical alpha abuse that happened behind closed doors. Many submissives chose to stay in their bond rather than break it for their own well being while many more just chose to never report it. Single parent families like his were rare. It was difficult to separate from a bond for any reason and he admired his mum for being so strong. There were always people who thought less of her for leaving her alpha and if she had been anyone else, would probably be shunned by most. His mother was an amazing woman that many looked up to and her kind heart and work at the omega shelters brought her a high level of respect in the community.

It was perhaps his protective nature that had made up his non-existent desire to leave home. It had been raining the day his mum and sister physically pushed him into the car, strapping his seatbelt across his lap for him, when it was time to leave for uni. He had fought them every step of the way through applications, apartment hunting, registering for his classes. Insisting he was completely content working at the small bakery down the street surrounded by the omega grannies did nothing to stop their efforts. It really was where he felt the most comfortable. He loved the way the older omegas pinched his cheeks and smirked as they pretended to turn a blind eye as he stole bites of treats hiding around corners. 

“You'll do great thing, my gentle giant,” she had said before placing a kiss in his rain dampened curls, sending him on his way. Of course his mother hated to see him leave her nest but she was also not naïve. She knew that without an education her alpha son would have a difficult time making a living for himself. One day he would have to provide for his mate as well and she refused to think of his fate if he failed to do that. 

There had been many things Harry had expected to feel as he arrived to move into his student apartment and start his classes. He was terribly homesick. He missed his bed and the scent of his mum around him. He felt out of place in his apartment building full of alpha jocks. He felt anxious about passing his classes and living up to the expectations his family had for him. He felt all of the things he had anticipated. 

What he hadn't expected was the sense of perception that opened with his newly found independence. He frequently found himself losing time in long walks around the city, his eyes open to every detail around him. Without his mum and sister occupying most of his senses with their close proximity, the world suddenly opened up to him in ways he never thought possible. Things like the leaves rustling together in the breeze caught his sharp hearing, drawing his attention to the way they danced against the light their light blue back drop. Students swirling around him made him ponder how their lives had been and were different from his. Never paying much attention before, he noticed clothing trends and hairstyles that had him becoming more aware of himself. Even within days of arriving he found himself abandoning his lightly coloured polo shirts and baggy pants in exchange for tight skinny jeans, tshirts and layers of flannel button ups. Though his mum always told him he needed a haircut, he just playfully rolled his eyes through the webcam and began holding his locks back with loose fitting beanies. 

He found himself carrying around a sketchbook, pausing without regard to document the scenes and details that were now so sharp to his senses. He was only a month into his first year and already he had accidentally missed more classes than he even realized while becoming completely engulfed in the sights and sounds around him. He had dabbled in artwork through his life but it had never called out to him quite like it had since arriving in the city. It hadn't been a conscious thought he had let himself acknowledge yet but the foundation of his passion was already strong and a change of major was tugging at him. 

Just a few blocks from his flat the tall generic buildings of student housing stopped abruptly and were replaced with larger single family homes. Separated only by a small park, the streets beyond the university held a much calmer vibe that soothed his nerves. The volume of the pedestrians he passed was much lower beyond the school and it was much easier to lose himself when he wasn't in the endless maze of dodging distracted students with earbuds and cell phones. 

Past the houses he had found a small bakery and coffee shop that had immediately felt like home. The aromas had drawn him in his second day in town and the familiarity kept bringing him back. When he could find an open seat he sat himself at the bar against the floor to ceiling windows in the front of the shop. He had never been a fan of coffee but a large mug of tea or hot chocolate was as satisfying to him as the bitter drink was to the caffeine addicts. 

In the early mornings he sat with his sketchbook as he watched the bustle of people in the morning rush hour. Pondering where their day would take them, he sketched the people who caught his eye, mentally writing their story as he made them come to life on the page. He imagined what they had in their shopping bags or briefcases, the contents telling small stories of their lives. He pictured a young omega with her cute skirt skipping off to her job at the clothing shop, counting the hours until she could see the sweet alpha that had been courting her. An alpha with stiff posture and set expression could be feeling the effects of his oncoming rut, dreading the uncomfortable work day that he knew was ahead. A group of betas in mandatory uniforms he imagined clocking in together, bitter words shared amongst each other as they vented about their relationship troubles. 

The curiosity was the type of behaviour his father hated seeing in him, he knew that for sure. Even though the older man still held strong bond ties to his mother, it never stopped him from criticizing the way he was being raised by her. On most of the weekends with his father he was dragged to sporting events or anything that was alpha oriented. Once he presented his father made the priority to toughen him up the highest on his agenda. Each time Harry was caught drifting off into his thoughts he was roughly brought down to earth with harsh tones telling him he was too soft. The omega's influences were ruining his son in his opinion but the threats of never amounting to much of an alpha failed to phase Harry on any level deep enough to make him change. His mother was proud of him. She held him close and praised him on the person he had become. By the rules of society, his father's opinion should have been the only one he listened to but his mother's approval was all he ever needed. 

As much as he wanted to discount the fact, his father did pay for his flat while in uni so with that in mind, his evenings at the coffee shop were dedicated to his thick school textbooks. Unable to concentrate on the words for too long before they began to blur, his day dreaming always got the best of him and made for grueling evenings. He sometimes saw the same people taking the same route back home after a long day of work. A hat or jacket or hair colour always caught his eye, familiar from the morning and he followed them as they moved past the window. 

On a particularly windy night he again found himself at the coffee shop. The heat of the hot chocolate mug burned his hands that had become ice cold with the fall chill lingering on the other side of the glass. Hints of daylight were still pale in the sky as he watched the streetlights flicker on one by one down the street. If he hadn't been behind from accidentally missing class earlier in the day, he would have pulled his pad and charcoal out to sketch the way the street suddenly took on shadows that seemed to hold secrets. The mug paused at his lips for a moment as his eyes caught sight of one of those shadows. The phantom slipped between the buildings like a breeze leaving nothing but mystery behind it. He blinked several times but moved on, sipping the sweet warmth of comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr but I'm mainly just good at hitting the reblog button. jaerie.tumblr.com


	3. Louis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I lied and I think this will be longer than 3-4 parts. I just came up with too many ideas and too much character development for them.

It all started on a sunny Tuesday in the deep heat of summer. The humidity was hanging in the air, thick with each breath and making the body feel sluggish even when not in motion. Afternoon football practices were routine for Louis and his team which was why that particular Tuesday felt so odd. As the captain of his junior team, he prided himself on his quick reflexes and detailed footwork that had earned him that title. He knew the sport well and for the past few years had found the games and practices to be the most consistent activity in his life. 

At first it was a missed step, his body thrown off balance as he ran his drills. Then his clouding mind missed a clear pass that had him cursing as he pulled at his hair that was abnormally damp. He had just barely made it through the session, slipping out of the locker room without a shower to hide himself away from his teammates. The pressure he put on himself to be the best was stronger than even the need to please his father and having an off day was completely unacceptable. 

The eyes burning holes in the back of his head were all looks of disappointment to him as he pushed his muscles to take him home as fast as he could. He found himself grasping at his jersey, pulling it from his chest as he found it harder and harder to breathe, a heavy ache slowly overwhelming him. Each block seemed like a mile but at last he finally made it to his home, sliding to the floor as soon as the air conditioning hit his hot skin. 

Fortune was on his side when his mother was the only one at home that day. Even with her weakened senses she was able to smell the cloud of pheromones wafting from his body. The fear in her eyes was sharp as a sword as she quickly ushered him into their family minivan and took off. By the time they had made it to the highway his skin had started to crawl, the friction of his clothing too much to bear as they irritated his hypersensitive nerves. He opened his mouth to ask what was happening, a loud moan ripping from his throat instead as he tore his shirt off over his head. The thump of his feet against the floor echoed as he desperately attempted to free his feet from the confines of his sneakers.

He surfaced into reality in the guest bedroom of his aunt's house days later. Naked and confused, he stretched his body out, dried substances cracking over his skin as his muscles flexed. Waking up in the unfamiliar bedroom was a feeling he had never gotten used to though it was where he waited out his next few heats in hiding. 

Terrified of the fate of her son, his mother had carefully kept his secret as long as she could. Visiting a doctor about his condition was completely out of the question. Not only would that expose his son to strangers but it would also expose him to his father. She even refused to verbalize the situation with Louis' himself, leaving him to cope and adjust on his own. With his father closely monitoring his internet use, researching his condition had started his love for the library. It became a sanctuary, a safe haven, a place where no one bothered him as he read countless books about genders. He had even found several books about gender reassignment surgery, forcing himself to read every word. Looking at the graphic medical photos printed in black and white, he had seriously started to think about it. Surely the life of a beta would be better than the fate his status would surely bring him. 

That was in the past now. Once he was exposed there was no way he could venture down that path. To say that the surgery wasn't an option was a lie. There were plenty of surgeons who would willingly experiment on his rare body parts. It was the outcome that would make the pain pointless. The only thing worse than a male omega was a known omega to beta transexual. Not only would he be the lowest on the totem pole at that point but he would have also lost a part of himself he realized had help craft the person he had become. 

It had been years since he stopped researching the genders but the library was still quite often his daily destination. He pulled on his best hoodie and headed out into the fall chill. The hoodie was the one he had claimed from the library lost and found after eying it for several months. It was new, the inside still soft and luxurious against his skin with a logo of a sports team he had never heard of displayed on the front. It was a bit too big for his tiny frame but gave him room for several layers beneath it with sleeves long enough for sweater paws. The smell that still radiated off the fabric was also divine. His first instinct was to wash the item but the lovely scent had caused him to pause. He had accepted his fate a long while ago and though he hated the control it sometimes had over his body and mind, he was still very much an omega. Immunity to the scent of an attractive alpha was not something he could switch off like the lights he used to have the luxury of having. 

With the university library being so close, accessible and packed full of new titles and information, the public library was usually quite deserted. Not allowed to check books out of the building without an address to cite on his account, Louis was grateful that he was able to spend hours at one of the tables or even sometimes in the arm chairs reading. Over the years he would have still been attending school, he had given himself quite an education. Out of pure boredom at the beginning, his eyes had crawled word for word over the classics, philosophy, geography, anything he could get his little hands on. Sometimes he would chose his next subject with a game, an unspoken goal set to read every book the library had sitting on its shelves. 

He occasionally would find himself wandering over to the cosy little children's nook. With a colourful rug over the short bland carpet, large pillows, stuffed animals and miniature chairs it was the only part of the library that visibly held life. He would run his fingertips over the brightly decorated thin spines before pulling a familiar title off the shelf. Curling up with a pillow, it was one of the only times he allowed himself to be openly nostalgic. His eyes would move over the words, mouthing along as memories played out within his mind. If no one was around, he could feel six years old again, his mothers warm arms protectively around his small frame as her soothing voice read the words to him at bedtime. She always did the character voices, sending him into small fits of giggles that would bring a genuine eye-crinkling smile to his mother's face. Things had felt so perfect back then. It made his chest ache as he longed to be back in his childhood room. Peewee football trophies and model airplanes seemed the only things to matter back then. He hadn't understood Peter Pan's way of thinking at the time, wanting so badly to be big enough to play on the real football teams or walk to the shops alone. Now he identified with the flying lad. He shouldn't have wanted to grow up back then. 

On the way out of the library at closing time he made his way past the vending machines. He slipped his fingers into each coin return as he did every day hoping to find something left behind. It wasn't his day and he left empty handed, shoving them deep into the hoodie pockets after flipping the hood over his messy hair. His next stop was the fountain out front. The jets had already been turned off in anticipation of winter though there was still water at the base. Used as a wishing well, the bottom was covered in change though most of it was out of reach. He always felt a bit bad stealing someone's wishes as he pulled his sleeve up, bracing himself for the sting of ice water before plunging his hand in. Circling the whole fountain this way, he brings his small fist up with just enough change for a small bag of crisps. It wasn't much but with his shrunken stomach, it would keep him from passing out for another day. 

At one time there had been a sweet old lady who ran a produce shop not far from where his small hobbit house was. Desperate for food and digging through their garbage in back, she had found him. Scared and shaking, the roundness of his cheeks now gone from his new life on the streets, her eyes had softened. Her gentle blue eyes had glanced around, making sure the coast was clear before sneaking him two ripe tomatoes, an apple and three wrapped up caramels. 

Scurrying back to his hole in the ground much like a squirrel hiding his nuts, he had ripped open the first caramel and shoved it into his mouth without hesitation. Actual tears had slid down his cheeks at the sweet clean taste of the candy, the first he had had in months. He had returned the next day and then the next, waiting for the old woman to find him outside once again. She said very little to him and it was obvious she was nervous about being caught interacting with the disgusting creature everyone saw him as. Compassion and kindness always filled her eyes despite her fear and sometimes she would let him sweep up the store room or tidy the back alley for a note here and there. Looking back, he was sure it was the only way he had survived as he was learning to live on his own. 

There came a point where the woman had stopped coming to the alley door to find him. Every day he waited and hoped and every day he left with his stomach and hands empty. He had even hidden across the street from the store in the row of hedges to catch sight of her, even sneaking up to the storefront window to peek in. The confirmation had come in the form of an overheard conversation one afternoon. It had been between two betas as they unloaded a produce truck in front of the small shop. She had taken ill, her sons moving her to a care center outside of the cities. His heart had hit the pavement in a splat, his lungs losing their air. That night he had sobbed into his makeshift pillow harder than when his grandma had passed away. Her kindness had been more meaningful to him than any Christmas sweaters or peppermint candies his biological grandmother had ever given him. 

With her age and condition he was sure she had passed away shortly after and he still had moments of heavy sadness when she crossed his mind. Louis had been left to fend for himself after that. She had given him enough food and money to strengthen his body and lower his stress. Her help had also given him enough time to grow wiser in the ways of making it on the streets.

The cold wet change that held people's wishes slid easily into a nearby vending machine. He always preferred the automated machines to the shops whenever he could manage it. The looks of disgust and hatred always made his stomach churn uneasily as he passed over the money they usually treated as if it were contaminated. There was no disease pumping through his body, no visible sores, no cough or sneezes yet he could see the way they wished they were wearing rubber gloves during their brief interaction. It was easier to avoid.

The bag of the salt and vinegar crisps hit the bottom of the vending machine with a crackle and he sticks his hand in to retrieve them. There was a time he would be begging his mother to let him snack on the junk food but now he just longed for one of her home cooked meals. 

Streetlights were just beginning to pop on one by one in the night of evening. The streets were fairly deserted so he took his time making his way home, popping each chip into his mouth to enjoy the flavour before crunching them up. This technique also made his stomach fill faster or at least the illusion of filled. 

Crackling as he rolls the opening of the small bag shut, he glances up and down the street to see if anyone is paying attention to him. As always, he finds that he had gone unnoticed by the few passersby who were more concerned with their destination than the omega leaning against the bricks. He slips the half bag of crisps into his hoodie pocket for later and slips between the two buildings on his way to his home. It wasn't that it had been a good day but more importantly, it hadn't been a bad one. He smiles a little to himself as he moves the wood from the opening to slip down into his home. 

He freezes immediately once his whole body is inside of his living space. Freezes with the exception of his lungs which fill repeatedly and purposefully as he pulls air in through his nose. Instead of being greeted by the familiar scent of himself and his things, he is met by something foreign and alarming. Someone had been inside his space. Realizing the danger, he quickly snaps out of his stance, flying around his possessions with his nostrils on alert while taking inventory at the same time. Though nothing appeared to be missing, his suspicions now were confirmed. Someone had been in his safe little hobbit house. Someone had laid on the bed he had made out of discarded blankets. Someone had pawed through his small cardboard box of clothing. Someone had moved his store of candles around. Someone had been here. Someone had discovered him. The blood drained from his face as it finally began to sink into his brain, the cogs turning as his alert state turned to a strange mix of emotions. It wasn't just a someone that had been in his home. That someone had been an alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr though I'm mainly just good at hitting the reblog button. jaerie.tumblr.com


	4. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect such a long delay, sorry!! Had some personal things come up and then all the album promo has kept me a little preoccupied. I will try not to have such a long gap in chapters moving forward. Comments are definitely welcome! And I don't spend as much time editing as I should so there are probably mistakes. Oops. Enjoy!

Coloured pencils slide across the paper, hot chocolate cools in the ceramic mug and rest of the world stays far out of reach. The clinking of glass behind the counter, the occasional sound of steam being forced into liquid, the soft volume of conversation with no distinguishable words and the small chimes of the till were all sounds that were easy to mute within his mind. They were familiar and comforting to the alpha, a vital part of the daily routine he had recently adopted. As lines became shapes and shadows brought those shapes to life on the pages, the dull roar of activity in the coffee shop had just become the soundtrack to his creations. 

It had been days since he first caught sight of the mysterious shadow across the street. Though it had started with just a brief double take on that first night, he hadn’t been able to keep his mind from wandering down the path of curiosity. Interest about the gap in buildings he had walked past numerous times without a second glance now held his attention like a string in front of a playful kitten.

“Mind your own business,” was something he had heard from his father countless times when the man caught his eyes wandering after someone in his presence. It wasn’t manly to gossip about another person, even if it was confined to his personal thoughts. He would always flinch and divert his eyes but, like a magnet, he found them slyly drifting back. His nature was no different now that he was a young adult. The only variance was the lack of his father’s strong voice and intimidation which left him free to stare as much as he pleased. There was never anything rude about the way he watched people. He didn’t gawk or draw attention to himself and negative thoughts and opinions only sprang to him when they were earned. 

Lost in a charcoal depiction of a very eccentric omega he had seen earlier that morning, Harry had found himself missing, or rather absent from as he wasn’t missing it at all, his afternoon literature lecture. It wasn’t that he was irresponsible. The alpha had always arrived on time to important events but he swore time did not work the same way here in the city as it did back home. It couldn’t possibly be three in the afternoon when he still had his breakfast plate and mug just inches from his hand. 

Creating smoky charcoal smudges around his mouth as his fingertips pulled his bottom lip in thought, his unfocused eyes pointed through the large pane of glass, trying to visualize his subject from memory. Blurs of shapeless colours morphed slowly into objects in front of him before one particular movement caught his attention. There, right across the same street, his focus landed on the day light version of the shadow that had occupied his mind. The figure was small in stature, the oversized sweatshirt draped over his shoulders and hanging loosely on his body made his size even more apparent. Ripped and frayed on both knees as well as around bare ankles, black fabric hugged tightly up thick curved thighs that any omega would be jealous of. He had often heard his sister commenting on her thin limbs, wishing she could fill her jeans with some meat that would have alpha suitors drooling. The body in front of him was most definitely not one of a female, though. This body was definitely voluptuous but shoulder width and general posture made it clear he was no girl. 

Though his ill fitting clothing and loose sandy fringe created quite a sight, it wasn’t those factors that made him immediately stand out to Harry. In a district of town where you were more likely to have a clear view up one’s nostrils than catch sight of the top of their heads, the boy’s downturned face and withdrawn body language was a clear indication that he was a unique player in this scene. He was flighty in his movements, glancing around nervously several times before moving closer to the gap between the bricks. The boy disappeared in the space after repeating this several times, completely unaware of the green eyes glued to him. 

Harry kept his eyes anchored to that spot across the street for several long moments before his fingers began to twitch with inspiration. Abandoning his earlier sketch, he started on a fresh page. Charcoal to paper, his hand flew, the urge to document this figure overpowering him. Unanswered questions were again flooding his mind, each one pouring into his sketch as he documented each small detail from memory. It was unusual to see someone dressed so poorly in this neighborhood. That alone was puzzling. 

He was also perplexed by the small space this person kept slipping into. He found himself sketching it into the background as he pondered some possible answers. The nervous behaviour automatically took his mind to some dark places. Since he was not in the drug scene, he naively wondered if there were drug exchanges taking place just out of sight of the street. He could easily recall the outdated anti-drug films they were forced to watch in class when he was young and he supposed it could be a possibility. There had been graphic images of dirty, unshaved alphas in the gutter with unusually large prop needles taped to their arms followed by diagrams and descriptions of how the drugs had caused them to lose their knot. As he grew older and wiser he realized that most of those were just scare tactics but then again, he didn’t have anything in his own life to prove anything wrong or right. Perhaps early drug use had caused this boy to stay so small. 

Then again, other than his clothing, he had appeared to be clean with his hair combed purposefully down and across his forehead. The thought of it being just a short cut to the street behind seemed far too simple to him. He could feel that there was something more. 

Several hours and many sketch filled pages later, Harry found himself staring out the window in a thought filled gaze. Though he had been paying attention to nothing, the moment his eyes caught the movement across the street he was instantly alert. He watched closely as the figure scurried down the street and instantly he felt himself in motion as well. Unintentionally drawing the attention of the caffeine addicts around him, he slammed his books shut and began shoving them into his bag. He did the same with his pencil case, grabbing everything else that had collected on the table until his belongings were stowed haphazardly in his backpack before rushing towards the door.

The honk of a car horn filling the air with a shocking decibel barely startled him as he flew across the street. The curve of his path as he narrowly avoided being hit and subsequent flailing of his limbs to keep himself upright made up an interpretive dance of his clumsy haste. He reached the opposite curb safely, his chest heaving in deep breaths with the quick spike in adrenaline. 

“Head always in the clouds,” he heard his father’s disappointed voice echo through his head as he glanced back at now retreating car. Details often escaped him when his mind was set on something, safety and common sense included. He couldn’t help his lack of filter most days. He reacted as he thought and spoke, the consequences always catching up to him after the fact. 

It was this same lack of thought that pushed him forward, glancing up and down the sidewalk before directing his body towards the gap in buildings with determination. With so many theories springing up in his brain lately like stubborn dandelions overtaking a nicely manicured lawn, his imagination may have slipped just a tad out of hand. He put his first step forward, half expecting to find himself in the land of Narnia or perhaps on a platform to Hogwarts through this passage. Instead, his feet fumbled and his body was jerked backwards, arms flailing in an attempt to regain his balance. It took him just a beat to realize it was his backpack serving as the bouncer, the width just a bit too large for both him and the bag to slip through. He threw off the offending article, abandoning it on the sidewalk without a second thought. He was on a mission and not even the safety of his electronics and art would stop him from it. 

Free of his pack, his body then slid easily into the space, sidestepping until he reached a wider section of the chasm. With his hand on his hip, the second raising to pull at his lip in thought, he looked around with brows knitting in confusion. There was nothing there. There wasn't a sudden change in seasons, no mythological creatures, no elaborate train waiting to be boarded, not even a shortcut to the next street. 

Perplexed, he sank down to the ground with his long legs folding in an awkward pretzel in front of him. This couldn't just be the end to his mystery. He had spent far too many hours with his mind focused on this point for it to be such a disappointing dead end. The sweet scent that had started to invade his senses was much too strong to just be the lingering essence of a passerby. 

With a sigh of defeat, he kicked his legs out in front of him, the space not even large enough for him to stretch out. He tried to adjust his position before his whole body went rigid, an unfamiliar shock of electricity warming the nerves down his spine and making his stomach flutter. As his eyes closed involuntarily, he took a deep breath in through his nose and nearly moaned as the feeling overtook him. His head floated as if he were high, all thoughts void in his mind as something instinctual took over his body. It wasn't until the zing of warmth hit his groin that he snapped back into reality. The pieces began to come together quickly as an epiphany descended upon him. Omega.

Of course he had been educated on the genders through school with all the mandatory health and family classes but the description of finding an alluring omega had only ever been fiction to him. He had often wondered if the reaction was actually a myth or, as the years after he presented rolled by uneventfully, that there was something wrong with him. His alpha nose had grown more sensitive throughout his teens and identifying the genders around him slowly became second nature. The sweet flowery scents of omegas as they passed him had never caused him to turn his head like the alphas around him. In the same way one would notice the distinction between the aroma of a baking cake and that of sizzling bacon in a skillet, the difference had never seemed particularly noteworthy to him. 

None of the textbook descriptions or cheesy romance scenes had prepared him for the full body rush he was currently experiencing. The accounts of alphas being unable to help themselves in so many situations had never made sense to him until now. Even the sharp smell of an omega in heat had never controlled his body this way. His knees were scraping along the ground before he realized what he was doing, his nose directing him to the decrepit piece of lattice resting against the brick straight across from him. It moved easily in his grip and with a quick intake of breath, he found his Narnia laid out before him. 

It was a bit awkward for him to climb down into the space but once he was through the opening, he found the hovel to be of a decent size. The sweet scent wrapped around him like the warm spice of Christmas and though it had been unfamiliar to him until just a moment before, he felt as if he was returning to the comforting smell of his own bed at home.   
His fingertips moved along the small shelf housing a collection of mismatched candles, his eyes taking in the random collection of items that all seemed to be purposefully placed. This was not just a catchall for junk. There was too much devotion behind the arrangement and organization of everything he saw. He quickly realized this den had become someone's home. Someone whose shadow had captured his curiosity. 

On hands and knees he made his way over to the bed of blankets, the scent again hitting him with a force that rolled his eyes back for a brief moment. He couldn't resist the urge to push his face right into the pillow, a groan of frustrated pleasure forcing its way from his throat. The noise his own body had emitted made his whole body freeze, face still pressed deeply into the scent saturated fabric. Like someone slowly sliding a key into a lock, the teeth of realization slowly began to fit into the grooves, his mind able to turn the key for the first time in his life. 

He had always struggled to live up to the alpha expectations of his father, always wondering why he had to pretend in the first place. There had never been any interest within him in the omegas at his school as he walked the halls. There had always been forced banter on his part with the alpha lads in his classrooms. As they catcalled and spoke about their latest conquests, he found himself mimicking their behaviour while they were together, never actually feeling a part of their conversations. 

In their society, the cookie cutter for alphas was fairly standard. There was rarely a mistake when it came to recognizing an alpha on the street. Harry had been questioned on a regular basis, especially when he was younger. It had irritated his father. The fact that his alpha son, the alpha he should have been proud to show off, was frequently being mistaken for a beta had infuriated him. Knowing what was expected of him, he tried to play the part when he knew his father was watching. He would let his eyes follow the short skirt of an omega as she passed by or entertain the idea of being setup with one of his coworker's daughters and fake enthusiasm about it. He saw the way the world worked but still he felt like a square peg in a round hole. 

Rolling around in the intoxicating scent that he could only assume belonged to the shadow, he realized he had found his matching square. Having never encountered one before, it only made sense that had not had this revelation sooner. He had stumbled upon a male omega and nothing had ever felt so right.


	5. Louis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter I've posted in the last 24 hours fyi so you don't get confused. I just got on a roll so figured why not. This is the chapter that mentions rape. Its not a graphic depiction but thought I'd throw that warning out there. 
> 
> Enjoy and let me know what you think! It's also quite late here so I apologize in advance for any mistakes I made.

Devoted to his sport, Louis had been involved with several different football clubs as he was coming up. With different age groups and configurations, there was always a different team active at different times of the year for him to participate in and with his parents willing to pay his fees, he was always able to. As with most organizations, there was always some type of food drive or charitable activity to be involved with to give the team a positive image. Born with a heart of gold, Louis had always been one of the first in line to volunteer his time and efforts no matter the cause. He had made numerous trips to shelters and assistance centers to either deliver goods or lend a hand with whatever was needed at the time. It was this experience that made him aware of the locations of these places throughout his city. 

Though it took him hours to get there on foot, the crisis and temporary housing shelter had been his first destination once he had settled down enough to think semi-clearly that first night on his own. The florescent lights were a welcome beacon and their glow made the idea of warmth spread throughout his body with just the thought of being through those doors. He was sure he looked a mess, his eyes already feeling swollen and puffy from the tears that he couldn't seem to stop and his nose running enough to have him sniffling. 

At first he had been greeted by a warm and comforting face, a smile at the control window from a young man that was probably volunteering from the university. His eyes were kind and sympathetic as he handed over a box of generic tissues that felt like sandpaper but were better than his already snot covered sleeves. He blew his nose and used what seemed like half the box before he felt at least partially presentable though his skin felt raw and chapped. 

“Have you run away?” the young man had asked after leading him into the common area, sitting him down on one of the sofas before taking a seat beside him. A fresh wave of tears flooded his eyes as he shook his head, unable to get another word out before an older man with a clipboard was approaching them with narrowed eyes. 

“Patrick, you know the rules. No omegas,” the older man had barked, “Get him out of here.” A stern finger was pointed at the door and Louis watched as the empathy drained from the younger man's face in front of him. His kind eyes were now replaced with a repulsed contortion of features, scrambling off the couch as his status had been revealed. 

“This is an alpha shelter. How dare you try to manipulate your way in here for some free food and a fuck,” the older man had grabbed him by his shirt, lifting him off the couch as Louis scrambled to get his feet beneath his body. He hit the cold pavement with a thud and scraping of skin as he was thrown out, the metallic clang of the doors being slammed and locked shut behind him echoing in the nearly empty parking lot. Shock rendered him useless as he stared back towards the building, the throbbing of his palms and elbow going unnoticed as his brain attempted to process the second rejection of his day. 

He eventually lifted himself from the ground, his scratched and bleeding palms now screaming at him with physical pain that barely rivaled the emotional vice he was currently being crushed with. The reception at the battered omega sheltered had played out much the same, no one wanting to take the risk of housing a male omega who came with preconceived stigmas. 

Alone, scared and shivering cold, he found himself wandering the dirty streets near the shelters. He was well aware that he was not in a good part of town and his stomach fluttered with nerves at the unfamiliar territory. The omega prostitutes with too much gaudy makeup covering their drug induced faces and clothes that left absolutely nothing to the imagination were less than welcoming, chasing him off their streets with threats about stealing their territory or repelling their clients. Every encounter scared him more than the last until he found himself crouched behind a dumpster, making himself as small and invisible as he could manage. 

He kept his tears silent as he mourned the comfortable life he had taken for granted, the life he had known only a day before. Sick with a yearning for a home that he could no call longer his, he cried until he was too exhausted to stay conscious.

The next few days had passed in much the same fashion. Denied at every safe haven he had ever heard of, his options were exhausted. His skin had become red and painful from being exposed to the cold air and he could smell the dirty alleys caked on himself in a way that made his flesh crawl. Hopeless and defeated, he began to give up, his strong will chipping away piece by piece to leave a broken shell of who he had thought he was. 

It was in this state that he stumbled into the wrong moonlit alley. Had he been paying more attention, he may have heard the rough voices or the shuffling of movement but he had checked himself out. Male omegas were the scum of society but it didn't mean they were safe from an alpha's wrath. Justifying their actions as a way to humiliate and degrade the rare gender, alphas were rarely charged or even questioned when it came to the mistreatment of them. His body small and weak with hunger, he was easily overpowered and passed around the small group of brusque alphas like a toy.

Their stubble burned against his irritated skin, their rough hands branding bruises as they held him down. The pungent smell of alpha arousal encompassing him and their rancid breath made him gag and brought tears to his already swollen eyes. Dry heaving wracked his body, his stomach already empty and twisting with nothing more to expel. None of that phased the men as they tore his body apart and used him like a piece of garbage. They left him in a crumpled heap as the morning light began to touch their surroundings, their demoniacal laughter echoing until it disappeared as the distance between them increased. 

It had taken him months before he could calm himself from sprinting away from the faintest hint of an alpha scent gracing his nostrils. Trying to hide during his first heats on the streets were the most terrifying experiences of his life and he did his best to lock away every memory he had from it. He knew it wasn't healthy but couldn't help but be relieved when his heats had ceased all together. Putting the pieces together, he figured it was his malnutrition and stress causing his condition but as he had no access to medical attention, he couldn't be sure. He didn't think it mattered anyway. His lack of heats made his safety more secure and he saw no chance of ever having or wanting children. 

Smelling an alpha in his home and all over his belongings brought back a wave of intense fear he hadn't felt for a very long time, his blood pulsing ice cold through his veins at a rapid speed. Clearly there was no space for anyone to be hiding in his dwelling but it didn't stop him from scrambling to get his fingers around one of his knives, clutching the handle tightly in his fist. His skin had grown thick with experience and his fight had returned with a renewed vengeance once he had gathered himself together after those first weeks. He was no longer afraid to defend himself or fight back when the situation presented itself. The last years had created a feisty and jaded omega who put little investment in his stereotypical role. 

His secret haven had never been breached before. No protocol or plan of action was in place for an event such as this. Thoughts moved like rushing travelers through a busy airport terminal, every plan bringing more anxiety to his already agitated state. The idea of relocating was absolutely terrifying to him. This was the center of his life, the only sense of home he had. Winter was quickly approaching and he was in no way prepared to live in the elements after so many winters of being spoiled indoors. Being arrested for sleeping in the wrong place was not an option for him either. There was a slim chance he would ever leave a prison alive if that happened. 

What did an alpha want with him anyway? Aside from his blankets being askew nothing else appeared to be out of place. Even the sports section of the newspaper he had pulled from the trash was still neatly laying open to the previous day's football stats. 

He backed his way into the corner of his bed so he could keep a watchful eye on the entrance to his residence. The knife, still clutched tightly in his hand, held against his chest at the ready. Eventually the exhaustion of his heightened emotional state overpowered his will to keep watch. Through the night he kept his ears alert through his partially sleeping state, weapon still clutched in his hand. 

 

 

Louis woke in the morning with fatigue still hanging onto his eyelids, the weight pulling them down. Seeing that he had not been attacked through the night, he allowed himself some extra time to nap through the morning. With nowhere else to be and the gurgling of his stomach something he was more than used to, sleeping in was rarely something he felt guilty about. With all the downfalls of his situation, answering to no one but himself was definitely one of the perks he enjoyed. 

Cabin fever and the need to expose himself to some natural light finally pulled him from the comforts of his bed in the early afternoon. His senses were still on high alert, breathing in the scent of the unfamiliar alpha on his pillow all night definitely did not help to calm his nerves. There was no hesitation to his decision as he tucked his knife into the band of his jeans, sheathing it with fabric to keep himself protected in the process. He was prepared to encounter almost any of this alpha's intentions. There was no way he was going down without a proper fight to defend himself. 

Beams of bright autumn sunlight already enhanced his mood as he secured his home behind himself and prepared to step into the world beyond. If he hurried now, there was a chance he would be able to get to the bakery's morning leftovers before they were buried with the rest of the rubbish from the shops next door. If he was lucky he might find a nice danish or perhaps a loaf of day old french bread that he could take with him. It was like winning the food lottery on those days, knowing he could keep his stomach full for at least a couple days. 

“Mmph!” he grunts out as he smacks right into a firm and warm obstacle. Failing miserably at his mission to stay alert already, images of sugary treats and a bounty of carbs had quickly distracted him and caused him to be even more careless than usual. 

“Hi,” a voice startled him to look up. He couldn't remember the last time he had been acknowledged. It was even harder to recall the last time he received a response from someone that had been pleasant. He froze in place, making a mental note to teach his body a stern lesson after this. The sudden lack of function response he was experiencing lately was doing nothing for his survival mode, especially when he was supposed to have his guard towers on high alert in the first place. 

The cogs of his mind had rusted over and seized, though, and he was helpless. Strong warm hands steadied his shoulders as his body swayed and everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. A broad open face punctuated by a deep dimple and sideways grin captivated him while shockingly green eyes that held a warmth that made his heart ache as they held his stare. It took him a long 10 minutes, or maybe it was actually 10 seconds in real time, to comprehend that his breath had been temporarily knocked from his lungs upon impact. His cerebrum would never let him suffocate from a state of such mild shock and told his chest to expand for him, cold air quickly moving through his nose. 

There it was. Sleeping with the scent on his pillow so close to his nose there was no way to mistake it. Shock quickly turned to terror as he jerked his body away from his grasp and ran with as much power as his legs possessed. The deep voice had called after him but there was no way he would stop. He ran until he couldn't move, legs weakly causing him to stumble on the pavement, retching into the grass with overexertion. 

Like a bulldozer doing the job of a small hand held shovel, too many things were happening too quickly. Warmth from the large hands was still burning the memory of his nerves on his shoulders, the first time someone had touched him in ages. The smile that was directed towards him made was making his heart ache with emotions he had learned to tuck away. And those eyes. He wasn't used to seeing anything but hatred and distaste held in the eyes that looked down on him. In those brief 10 minutes, or realistically 10 slow motion seconds, his dam had been opened without his permission and the land downstream was not prepared for the flood. 

 

 

His churning stomach became the focal point of his evening. Hunger and then anxiety twisted his insides with a death grip he was powerless to control. Muscles in his legs burned from his sprint, the memory of the alpha's sent hitting him again with every expanse of his lungs. 

Pushing through his misery, he waited until the cover of darkness to attempt his return. He felt like a spy slinking around his neighborhood towards his own home but failed to come up with any other option for himself in this situation. 

Knife held at the ready he slid his body through the passageway, blood again running cold as he detected the lingering scent once again in his surroundings. It seemed too substantial to be left from that morning and it made his stomach drop. Safely inside, he was able to see that the stranger was no longer there but his heart still shook in his chest. He lit several candles and retreated to the corner of his bed again, knife still clutched in his fist. 

It was only when he began to inventory his belongings that he found something that had not been there before. Propped up on his small shelf and held in place by one of his smaller candles was a thick sheet of sketch paper. Gingerly, he picked it up, his fingertips holding on to just the edges as he let his eyes scan. With intense black and white detail he saw himself starting back up at him. The small lines around his eyes and the sharp cut of his cheekbones were drawn exquisitely as if the artist had known him for years. On the lower corner of the page was another sketch, this one from a distance. He could recognize his clothing and messy hair though his face was turned down from view. This person had to have been watching him for some time to create such a depiction from memory. It sent another wave of unease through him that he was being stalked yet it wasn't followed by the anger he was expecting. In a strange way he felt a warmth spread a small smile across his lips. As he inspected the detail of himself on the page he couldn't help but realize that someone had actually noticed him. Noticed him and had not cast him aside.


	6. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops. been a while again. holidays, funerals, chemo and all that jazz. it is never my intention to wait so long between chapters but this is the first chaptered story i'm promising to finish. :) 
> 
> i didn't go through to proof read so let me know if there are any glaringly obvious mistakes. i'd love to hear your comments! thanks for reading, i wouldn't finish this if you werent

 

There are several stages that the body can experience under the influence of a mind altering substance. Each phase holds its own alluring feeling causing the cravings to seek out and experience the roller coaster again and again. Even the crash, the lows provide an essential part of the cycle that makes the next spike more defined, more intense. In the first moments that the drug surges through the veins, it is carried quickly through the blood stream and sends the heart into a racing, quivering beat. The intoxicating rush quickens the pulse and opens the floodgates for the encompassing high. Erasing everything but the temporary bliss, the world within the haze of one's own altered mind can feel like the most serene escape. Nothing exists through the synthetic pleasure making it all too easy hand the over the reins, to surrender.

 

Harry had never done drugs himself, had never in his years even desired it. The experience of losing himself to a substance had always been completely unknown to him. He lost himself within his own head too many times a day to seek out an escape. The moment his head began swimming with the unexpected rush, it made his suddenly scalding hot blood pulse almost painfully through his body and had him questioning his former opinions on the subject. The warm clear scent coming directly off the body in front of him during that brief encounter made his heart flutter in a quick hummingbird rhythm and feel light headed from the sudden change in pressure. It had all happened so quickly yet every small detail was burned into his memory permanently like ink set into white fabric. The sharp angles of his cheek bones, the curve of his lashes, the bow of his lips and sinfully delightful smell all registered in painful high definition. Those piercing blue eyes had cut straight into his soul instantly, the sharp fear present in them slicing even deeper into his heart and making it ache with something he had never felt before. He had never been feared by anyone.

 

He was used to being rejected by others, used to being ignored or blending in. He slid in and out of social groups without much thought, never quite being embraced by anyone in particular. There was finally a realization settling within him that none of them had ever _mattered,_ he had never put much weight in what they thought of him. They had just been different faces parading through different indecipherable moments of his life.

 

This boy, this  _omega_ , suddenly mattered to him more than anyone else in his life, let alone a stranger. He did not even find it difficult as he gave himself up freely to what was happening. He surrendered without question to what he could only describe as pure instinct, a drive ingrained deeply within him that he felt useless to fight. He had found his drug of choice and he couldn't even begin to feel guilty about it. 

 

 

 

 

Occupying himself with his sketchbook and fresh memories, Harry had attempted to wait for the boy's return on the makeshift bed for as long as he could. He leaned his back against the wall and let his pencils take over the work as the minutes rounded to hours. Waiting until the droop of his eyelids slowly gave way to the sleep induced nods of his head, he had finally given up for the night. There was no question in his mind that seeing his omega again was a definite priority but as the time passed and allowed his head to clear just enough to allow some rational thought, he realized that camping out for him on his bed was not the first impression he wanted to make. He wanted his omega to like him, wanted to earn the privilege of claiming him as his omega and stalking was not the way to do it. 

 

He climbed out into the chilled fresh air and it immediately filled his lungs, the freshly oxygenated blood running like a sieve through his brain. Cleared from the distracting scent beyond what faint hints still clung to his clothes, he finally collected himself enough to think about what had been happening to him. 

 

The walk home seemed much shorter than usual as he spent it stuck inside his own head. He had let himself become a slave to his surging hormones and it frightened him in ways he didn't quite understand. His anxiety built both with how quickly and willingly he had given himself over to his urges but also how badly he realized he wanted that. Maybe, he pondered, he was just a late bloomer. The drive to mark and mate was something he had never experienced and now, even within a few short hours, it was growing stronger within him, taking over. Away from the scent that had his whole person hyper focused on claiming its source, he could identify the thick hum of determination that pulsed through his body. 

 

With each footfall of his boots against the pavement beneath him, he allowed himself to notice how different he actually felt. In his posture where he normally slouched his shoulders and curled in on himself as he made his way around town, he found that he was walking tall. His broad chest was on display in a stance of confidence that had unconsciously sprouted within him. For the first time he actually felt like the alpha he was expected to be and in a way it was exhilarating. 

 

Although the alpha within him had finally made his presence known, Harry knew he couldn't lose himself to it. After years of feeling lost, figuring out that that his indifference to female omegas did not mean something was wrong with him felt liberating. Admitting that he was gay came as natural as breathing and he was determined to worship and cherish the omega who had made him feel this way. 

 

 

 

 

 

He had given himself time, three entirely agonizing days, until he finally felt that he was in control of the new urges that attempted to control his body before he finally allowed himself to return to the coffee shop. Actually attending each of his classes, he used the time to focus his energy away from his hormones, his leg bouncing anxiously and teeth digging into the plastic of his pen each time he felt the need to bolt from his seat and search out the object of his obsession. 

 

He was in control, of course he was, when he finally allowed himself to give in. After an anxious and sleepless night, he ignored the numbers on his digital clock telling him just how early it was and slid his arms into his jacket. He swung his bag over his shoulder and made the trek to the coffee shop which was just opening its doors before the morning rush. The young girl behind the counter paused at his to go order that strayed so far from his usual but soon he found himself back in the crisp morning air with two lidded paper cups warming his large hands. 

 

A ball of nerves wound deeply in his stomach but he didn't let his discomfort deter him. The street was deserted as he made his way across, not allowing himself to pause before sliding carefully between the bricks, cup filled hands held out to his sides. Two deep breaths collected his wits as he knelt down, his keen alpha hearing not missing the frantic scramble just on the other side of the makeshift door. Setting one cup down, he carefully moved it away, eyes slow to adjust to the dim light as he crouched. 

 

“Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you,” he begins gently, holding up the warm cup, “I brought you hot chocolate...?” His voice curled up in a hesitant question as he saw the boy's body pressed against the far wall, a knife clutched tightly in his fist. His breath caught nervously at the sight and it took all of his willpower to control himself as the scent invading his nostrils became overwhelming. It was even sweeter than he remembered, the three days he had taken to clear his head dulling the memory only slightly. 

 

He picked up his own cup before slipping himself hesitantly down onto the floor, kneeling there to face the shaking creature in front of him. The pure fear staring back at him made his heart ache painfully in his chest. It was obvious to him now that he had not taken enough time to analyze this boy's previous reaction to him and guilt weighed heavy on him that he hadn't. 

 

“I... I brought you a sandwich?” he stammers out hesitantly, desperately wanting to break through the terror he had unintentionally inflicted. “Its um... turkey?” He almost didn't recognize his own voice that felt as shaky as the boy's hand around the knife. Taking several calming breaths, making sure to draw the air in through his mouth, he very slowly leaned forward, setting the hot chocolate down on the floor before sitting back on his heels and grasping his own cinnamon hinted cocoa with both hands. 

 

“I'm Harry... and I'll just... stay over here?” His confidence had wavered, each word he spoke coming out as a question, but he wouldn't leave. He couldn't. He sat back against the opposite wall and consciously made an effort to make himself look as unthreatening as he could, not looking away incase the boy would take that moment to lunge forward with his knife. 

 

Swallowing nervously, his mouth felt too dry and his tongue too thick. The cocoa burned at his mouth but he sipped at it anyway, the feeling keeping him grounded in his under practiced control. 

 

Time was only marked the temperature change of his drink, each sip becoming more bearable as the tension between them slowly began to diminish. Without any quick movements, he reached into his bag and pulled out one of the cellophane wrapped deli sandwiches he had bought with the drinks. Holding it up for the boy to see it wasn't a weapon, he again leaned forward to set the peace offering next to the cup. He watched the way the piercing blue eyes darted down to the sandwich, the pressing of his lips together and the audible sound of saliva across his tongue making it clear how hungry he was. 

 

“You can eat it. I promise I'll stay over here,” he encourages, trying to keep his voice as calm and gentle as possible. “Its not poisoned... I have one too, see?” he offered, pulling the second one from his bag. He watched carefully as his eyes darted back and forth between the food and himself, the torn expression on his face making his heart hurt with each heavy thump. It was harder than he thought it would be to keep his distance, the _need_ to comfort and take care of this, _his_ , omega screaming at him. 

 

A small amount of relief came to his breathing as the boy hesitantly moved forward, knife held and directed straight at him, eyes never leaving his face as he quickly snatched up the sandwich and scrambled back to his position against the wall. The sight brought a small smile to his lips, hiding it behind his cup as he watched him quickly unwrap the package. 

 

He was sure he had never seen someone eat a simple sandwich with such care. Posture still rigid and back plastered against the wall, he watched as he chewed each bite like it was the last turkey club on wheat he would ever have. The gravity of this omega's life was becoming painfully real in front of him, a storybook of body language, but he quickly found that pity wasn't something he felt for him. Though he had been shaking with fear, there was far too much determination and strength deeply displayed in his eyes and the set of his jaw. He could tell that the person in front of him had been through things he couldn't even begin to comprehend yet he had still managed to make it here. Here with a knife held expertly in his hand in a way that suggested he wouldn't hesitate to use it. Here on his own, making it clear he didn't need anyone to protect or take care of him. The fact that he knew this omega didn't need him to survive made Harry want him even more. He didn't  _need_ Harry to take care of him but Harry  _wanted_ to. With that realization, he found the struggle to control himself much easier. It now felt like a choice to be near him and the shift within himself caused some of the palpable tension to subside. He could tell the boy could feel it as well when he drew his attention away from his sandwich to make eye contact, slowly letting his hand lower the knife into a less defensive pose. Harry offered a smile across the small room and was met with a slightly puzzled expression. 

 

“Why?” the unfamiliar voice cracked from the lack of use, the small word filling the room, representing so many things left unsaid. He wasn't sure how to answer that, opening and closing his mouth several times before his brows knit together both in confusion and frustration. He had intrigued him, had caught his attention, had overwhelmed his senses and taken over his mind. He still didn't know _why_. 

 

“I don't know... It just happened,” he eventually offered, his voice soft and breathy as the word still tumbled around in his head. He watched as something softened in his expression, not quite a wall but a sheer curtain of defense dropping away at his admission. Maybe the confusion and pure uncertainty in his answer had been sincere enough to reinforce his promise that he wasn't here to hurt him. 

 

Though the apprehension was still there, he watched as his fingers slowly uncurled from their grip on the knife, leaving the weapon on the blanket as he hesitantly moved forward to retrieve the cooling hot cocoa that had been left for him. He returned to his position against the wall, both hands wrapped around the cup in the same way Harry's were. They sat mirroring each other across the room, both boys using the object to hide behind. He savoured each sip of the sweet chocolate even longer than the sandwich, a sliver of delight breaking through his set expression as each tasted slid over his tongue. 

 

The air between them slowly became more comfortable, staring across at each other from behind their cups, sipping at the sweetness as the time passed. Harry knew by the way his back had grown stiff, his bum becoming numb, that it had been longer since his arrival than he wanted to admit. Despite his physical comfort level, he had no desire to leave just yet. A strange inner peace had settled over him as they sat together and he wasn't ready to give that up. The longer he studied the boy, the more he felt that the feeling was mutual, that they each had settled into a comforting calm in each other's presence. 

 

He was in the middle of convincing himself that it was just his hopeful optimism reading into the feeling between them when the boy slowly lowered his hands and let his face soften just enough to hint at a smile. He returned the gesture, his body warming with excitement as he leaned forward. 

 

“I'm Louis.” 

 


	7. Louis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter but that's just how it worked out. Ignore my mistakes and habitual overuse of commas ;) 
> 
> Thank you for reading and for your lovely comments :)

Emotions can be a complicated matter. Never black and white, the complex Rubik's Cube of colours and combinations can be, at the very least, frustrating. Twisting and turning as the squares never line up quite right, they are frequently abandoned and rendered not worth the time. Unlike a Rubik's Cube, there is never a solution to the puzzle no matter how long you spend on the equation. Even mental health professionals who spend their lives researching the inner workings of the brain to create an emotional road map will never exactly have it right. Like following a GPS device that the owner has failed to update, they will always come across gaps in the predetermined route, easily lead astray. The English language has also attempted to label emotions in a way that can be universally understood between people. This system also commonly fails as it is rare to feel a singular emotion at any given point in time.

 

This is how Louis found himself overwhelmed with the overlapping, morphing kaleidoscope of so many things bombarding him all at once. Without a doubt the almost paralyzing fear was the most consuming, his body so rigid his muscles began to grow numb. His tight grip left indented crescents from his fingernails into his palm as his fists clenched but the pain had been easy to ignore. The next layer was surely a form of confusion. He had been sought out more than once now by this person yet he still remained unharmed. A passing alpha surely wouldn’t take this much time to plan out his actions if the only objective was to use or abuse him. No one had made an effort to find his home after this long but for some reason this stranger had. From the drawing that had been left behind, it seemed that finding his home hadn’t been the only thing he had done. He had quickly come to the conclusion that he had been watched before. For how long, he did not know, but the thought made his stomach turn uneasily and his sense of comfort all but disappear. It had been naïve of him to let down his guard as much as he had, anger at himself eating deep that he hadn’t been observant enough to catch this.

More confusing had been the sense of tranquility that accompanied this uninvited individual. Louis wanted to hate him, wanted to wield his knife the moment his scent had hit his nostrils, wanted to display his strength and dominance as he had learned he could. Being submissive was supposed to be a defining trait in his gender but it had never been in his nature. His urge to submit was easily fought which, as he first presented, he often pondered. There were genetic fuck ups all the time in the world. A baby born with an extra toe, without sight, without hearing, surely a gender mishap was no different. They happened all the time but Louis didn't want to feel defective. Apart from not falling as gracefully into his gender roles as he felt he should have, becoming an omega on a biological level had exactly never wrong. If it wasn’t for his resentment towards the life his gender had brought him and before that the fear of what would happen to him, he really couldn’t say he didn’t feel right in his skin.

There was just an aura that came with the stranger, Harry as he’d introduced himself, a soft hint to his smell that stopped him from lunging with his weapon. The indent of his dimples and the open arch of his eyebrows made his face soft, nothing about his appearance intimidating, not even his obvious height which made his limbs seem gangly rather than a towering presence. If it hadn’t been for the scent that so obviously screamed out his dominant gender, Louis may have questioned it.

 

It had been hours since the alpha had slipped out with nothing more than addressing him with a simple goodbye and a deeply dimpled smile. Hours yet the deep curl of the voice around his name still circled him. Years had passed since he had heard his name spoken aloud and the sinful bow of the lips that spoke those two syllables had his fingertips moving to touch his own at the memory. The molasses tone stuck to his bones.

Since he had been on his own, he realized that he had come to associate the term alpha almost exclusively with older men. Older men like his father or the shadows who had abused him. The ones who threw dirty looks and slurs towards him on the streets. The ones who were responsible for maintaining the social structure that had outcast him in the first place. This alpha appeared to be near his age and had broken through a thin layer of the prejudice he had been holding against the dominant gender. He had never dropped his façade long enough to allow himself to even consider an alpha attractive, he had never let himself even ponder the idea. It was much easier to firewall the idea of a relationship from his thoughts than bear the hurt that came with never being able to have one. There was absolutely no reason to suffer through the heartbreak that would come with pining after someone he would never be allowed to have, someone who would never want him.

The fiction section of the library was the only place he let himself romanticize the natural bonds that pulled mates together. Allowing himself a small shiver up his spine as he read a particularly descriptive passage of a romance, the arousal he felt thinking about teeth sinking into his neck in the heat of passion was always locked away quickly, never letting himself indulge in the fantasy. Enjoyable sex with love didn't exist and he would be the first to testify against it.

 

What began as keeping his eyes on his enemy slowly turned into observation as the time stretched longer between them. He held his stare across at the strong jawline that framed his wide face and after a while, began to study his details without shame. He was alluring with no real explanation. Now after being left alone with his thoughts, he hated himself for everything he had committed to memory so easily. Like a virus hacking down his defenses, each annoyingly attractive detail made his chest ache just a bit more with the sense of loss and longing. It wasn't that he immediately wanted to mate, the opposite actually, but the close proximity and persistence of his stare had forced him to entertain the idea that he might want a companion. It felt like old scars were being torn open, the pain wrenching his stomach while the fresh blood made him feel alive.

The tsunami of emotion was too much for him to handle. It had crashed into him at full speed spreading the devastation inland before pulling back out to sea, taking his fortresses with it. As time passed and the flood began to dry, it left anger in its wake, consuming him with hot tears and clenched teeth. Three glass candle jars were shattered on his floor by the time he was gasping with shuddering breaths, coloured wax marking his walls as lasting evidence of his loss of control. It wasn't supposed to be like this. The practiced poise of his daily life had taken years to perfect, building immunities to the world and himself with each experience. He was disgusted by how easily he had been broken down, weaknesses that he hadn't felt since those first weeks dragging him down the ladder that had taken him so long to climb.

 

The anxiety ate at him deeply but he found himself in no state to even begin to examine how to handle the situation. He steeled himself the morning after his tantrum and faced it just like any other day. His steps were a bit more brisk and his face pointed more directly to the ground than usually but he went through the motions. The sun set before he left the library and he didn't allow himself to linger on the streets as he scurried home.

Without surprise, Harry was waiting for him when he returned, a hesitant smile on his face and his curls pulled back into bun on top of his head. He hated the way the exposed flesh made his scent just a bit stronger but he swallowed down his reaction and forced himself to divert his eyes. They sat in silence on their respective sides of the room, their showdown not quite as tense as the day before. He noticed the glass was cleaned from the the floor and briefly wondered if he had only cleared the debris so his seat would be available.

Harry opened his bag and pulled out a banana, offering it to him before doing the same with a peanut butter sandwich sealed in a little baggy like his mother used to pack him for lunch. Louis made no move to take them though he eyed them hungrily, afraid to move himself within easy reach of the stranger. His logic was flawed as they were essentially blocked in a small room together but he held some pride in not offering himself over. The items were set on the floor between them, just as he had with the previous sandwich, and Louis took his time before hesitantly retrieving them.

As he ate, Harry offered up small tidbits about his life that seemed innocent enough. He learned that he was a student, a frequent customer of the coffee shop across the street Louis sometimes snatched cookies from and that he had left his mom and sister back home when he came to school. Though he kept his knife close, hidden on his person as it had been the last several days, he didn't feel threatened enough by the banana toting alpha to make it visible this time. He found that his voice was actually quite soothing to listen to even if he remained a mute through their exchange. He even found himself withholding facial expressions in acknowledgement of his comments. The boy didn't seem to mind, rambling on once he either felt comfortable enough to or was only nervously trying to cover up the awkward silence that would otherwise sit between them.

 

It became their unofficial routine in the days following. Louis would return to find Harry waiting with a smile and a snack from his magical bag, his deep voice rambling in slow pointless stories while he slowly chewed and savoured each bite. He found himself beginning to hang on every word though he never showed it and rarely admitted it to himself the fascination that had started to grow. Their unspoken agreement became more comfortable and soon he found himself looking forward to having the company. The conversations were always one sided but he found he liked it that way. Harry always left small gaps or subtle prompts to allow for Louis' contributions but he never took the bait. It felt much safer to keep his secrets, wrapping them around himself like a warm blanket he wasn't ready to share.

He was always left with a simple “Goodbye, Louis” that hung in the air long after he was gone, lingering with the scent he always left behind. They hadn't exchanged more than brief contact the day he had bolted yet his home was already beginning to smell like _them_. He wasn't sure what to make of that development yet in the few moments before he let sleep take him, he found a small smile creep to his lips with the comfort of it. This goofy alpha had trespassed into his life with his silky voice and enticing smell, bribing him with with treats like he was feeding a duck at a pond. It was frustrating and infuriating how he had taken over but each time he came home to that smile that could brighten any space, he couldn't deny that he was starting to like it. 

 


	8. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops. I honestly never mean for this much time to pass! Thank you so much to the people who commented and messaged me about updating. Its definitely very motivating and makes me more aware of how much time has actually passed without me realizing it. Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes and my general overuse of commas :)

When Harry’s mother loaded him up into the car and carted him off to university, he never pictured his new independent life to be anything like this. He never expected to find himself ditching so many of his classes, never expected to find new hobbies and definitely never expected to find himself turning into a stalker. Of course in his frequent calls home he left all of those details out of the conversation letting his mother and sister think that he was living the normal life of a student stressed with essays and exams and everything else that came with becoming an adult. With the work that his mother did with omega victims coming from the worst alpha situations, he was too nervous to let her in on his recent activities. If he was truthful about the way he had followed Louis and continued to invite himself over, he was sure she would think he was becoming one of the alphas that she had spent most of her life protecting others from. She would most certainly without hesitation pull him out of school and refresh his memory on all the life lessons she had attempted to teach him. Worse yet she would be done with him, write him out of her life. He wouldn’t be able to handle the encompassing love of his one true parent morphing into that of distaste. It would break his little momma’s boy heart into a million pieces if that happened and he surely would never recover. 

So he kept his lips sealed on the matter. He was finding more and more difficult as the intensity of his attraction grew daily. Louis was quickly seeping in to every part of his life and of his brain. He found that it was hard to keep his mind on his lectures as little sketches of Louis began to appear in the margins of all of his textbooks, a physical extension of his persistent longing. It was all too easy to let his mind wander to the way a healthy glow was starting to warm the boy’s cheeks with each visit which then prompted him to think of the next meal he would bring with him when he was finally released by the professor. Maybe Louis would enjoy this or he noticed he hadn't really like that the last time. It gave him a new feeling of satisfaction to know that he was taking care of his omega. While it was foreign, it filled his chest with a pleasant warmth that he knew he wanted to hold onto. 

His father continued to fill his bank account to cover his living expenses and though his intentions were far from malicious, he did find himself feeling a tad bit smug over what and more importantly who he was spending the money on. Much to his father’s irritation, Harry was notorious for living his life in the present. Not starting his admissions essay until the day it needed to be sent or spending his entire allowance or paycheck the day he received it, his family always seemed to be exasperated with him and his lack of planning. True to his nature, he had yet to think about how his budding relationship with Louis would impact him beyond tomorrow or the day after that. He had yet to think about how his family would react to him bringing home not only a male omega but a homeless male omega. He had yet to dwell how others would begin to view his family. Their inevitable relationship felt instinctual to him, destined and unavoidable if he wanted to live his life happily. Any disapproval from society not even a small factor in any of his actions. 

The fear that pulsed through him at the mere thought of his father’s disapproval also played a role in stopping him short each time a glimpse of their future outside the bubble they had created for themselves started to surface. The backlash and emotional beating that would inevitably come from his report card at the end of the semester was already looming heavily ahead of him. Anxiety that was potentially consuming was kept locked deep within him, only surfacing while he slept in the worst nightmares he had ever experienced. Even briefly reflecting on one of his father's past reactions to him was enough to build up sturdier walls. Revealing his relationship would be the end of everything and he refused to linger on what exactly the end would mean. 

With the dark sectors of his brain roped off with caution tape, he let loose his spirit. He let himself enjoy his life as he sketched Louis' beautifully sculpted face and carefully selected meals and snacks and purchased them each day with a bright dimply smile on his face. 

 

 

It was the next Tuesday when Harry felt like he had finally made a breakthrough. While listening to himself talk daily felt oddly like a therapy session, Louis’ continued silence was slowly hacking away at what self confidence he had stored up. The apprehension and pure terror that had once been etched into the eyes across from him had slowly faded to something he hoped he was reading correctly as happiness and a small amount of excitement. When he arrived each day his eyes became a little brighter, a hint of a small smile sometimes visible, though he still remained mute in his presence. He would slowly eat while Harry prattled on about anything and nothing at all, just trying to fill the silence between them. 

It was while Louis was slowly munching on a bag of pretzels that Harry let his eyes slowly wander the room. He had been there many times but apart from some light snooping at first, he hadn't focused on their surroundings. It was now unofficially confirmed for him that Louis did in fact live here full time. For a while he had sometimes wondered if this was just a secret space for him to sneak off to when he wanted to be alone, a tree house of sorts. Being that this was his home, there was now weight in observing how he lived. 

On one side, neatly stacked against the wall, were two folded t-shirts, a pair of frayed jeans and a hoodie. They all seemed well worn but not yet in rags. A small smirk came up to curl the corners of his lips as his eyes wondered to the wall opposite the organized clothes. There was a small pile of discarded socks which made him now notice Louis was barefoot on his bed. There appeared to be a wadded up t-shirt in the pile as well. He felt a connection then, glad that sometimes messy young boys will be messy boys whether it be their room at home, in a college dorm or whatever you would call this. 

There were a few ripped out magazine pages hanging up on each wall around him. They were all of footballers it appeared, action shots of each in action, some mid-kick. As he looked closer to read the text at the bottom of each he realized they must be famous footballers, sporters whose names sounded vaguely familiar though he couldn't tell you who they played for. 

He leaned forward just a few inches, squinting his eyes to read the caption but his attention was caught elsewhere. His fingers reached out for the folded paper but quickly stopped short, startled by a sudden sound. 

“Don't!” Louis exclaimed suddenly though his voice stayed quiet, timid. “Please... Just Don't,” his voice grew just a bit more firm as Harry stared back at him. Feeling like he was in some mild state of shock, he slowly withdrew his hand and sat back against the wall. His tongue wet his pink lips several times as he tried to recover from the surprise. 

“What is it?” his voice came out rough before clearing his throat awkwardly. 

“Harry... Just... Don't. Leave it,” he spoke again, face turned towards his lap as he rolled the pretzel stick between his fingers. Harry felt himself preen for a moment at the sound of his name rolling off his tongue, warm gooey caramel melting his insides. There had been many nights he'd fallen into dreams while imagining the way his name would sound in that sweet voice. None of the voices he had envisioned captured the way his accent twisted the emphasis of each letter on his simple name. He felt silly being thrown by such a simple sound but he had spent so long idolizing everything about him that the reality took him by surprise. 

“What is it?” he asked again, his thumb and forefinger pulling at his bottom lip in a nervous habit. Everything around them was used. The candles he had stacked or placed were all burnt down, glass chipped in a way that others would have disposed of them. His blankets were worn and rumbled on his makeshift bed, his dirty clothes just tossed to the side. He would even go as far as classifying the space as cluttered but this piece of paper was folded, tucked neatly and purposefully against the wall behind by his pillow. Focusing care on the item like that immediately made him curious. It had to be an important puzzle piece to who Louis was and how he had ended up there to show it that much care. 

A long silence passed between them as Louis pretended to focus his attention back onto his pretzels in an attempt to show the subject had been closed. Harry wasn't about to ignore the issue so quickly, his eyes moving between the paper and Louis intensely, back and forth until he saw his resolve begin to crumble. Louis huffed out an exaggerated breath as he shook his head in frustration and reluctantly leaned to reach the newspaper he rarely let himself look at. Carefully he unfolded it, eyes lingering over the ink before raising them to meet Harry's gaze. 

The vulnerability that Harry detected there now drew him in, so unlike the guarded vulnerability that had been present there at first. Guilt would have taken over him for pressing the issue had this not seemed so important to the boy who had finally spoken to him. He respectfully handled the paper, diverting his eyes to find a low quality picture on newsprint with faces beaming up at him. 

“Me family,” he said softly, perhaps a bit defeated. “Saw it in the paper... Didn't have any pictures of my sisters.” In his peripheral vision he could see the way Louis had started nervously adjusting his clothes. It was visibly obvious that this topic made him uncomfortable but unfortunately this only added to the questions Harry had weighing on the tip of his tongue. Carefully he handed the paper back, watching his eyes go soft for a moment as he let himself look at the picture again before gently folding it up and tucking it away. 

“Where are they?” the question slipped out before he could stop himself. 

“At school I suppose... don't know really,” he gave a small shrug, gaze down as he fidgeted with the cuff of his light jacket. “Haven't seen them in years.” 

“Did you run away, then?” the words escaped him again before he drew his bottom lip into his mouth. Louis immediately let out a small, dry laugh, scoffing at the suggestion as he shook his head. “Oh,” he realized at the sudden change in his demeanor. No, he definitely hadn't run away. Lost in his head for a few moments, he put together what it meant that he hadn't run from his family yet lived this life here at such a young age, letting society back into his thoughts briefly to put together the pieces. 

“I don't need your pity,” his voice was suddenly sharp and biting, his startled eyes snapping to meet his intense glare of narrowed blades. “That's why you're here then? I don't need it. I've been taking care of myself just fine since then. I don't need your charity offerings and I'm not here to make yourself feel good about yourself.”

Harry's mouth dropped slightly at the sudden accusation. This was not how he expected his first conversation with Louis to go and it had violently become out of control. He fish mouthed for a moment as he processed the words and their meaning before straightening his back, head shaking in denial. 

“Of course not!” he jumbled out, words overlapping each other in his haste. “I... I would have paid for your food if we were on a date too! I promise, I never.. I don't pity you.” 

“A date?” he asked, some of his prickles disarming as his tone changed to one of confusion. 

“Well... yea... I mean...” he cleared his throat nervously as he compulsively cracked his knuckles and wiped his palms on the thighs of his skin tight jeans. “That's what I want to do. That's what I'm doing.”

Something changed on his face as he broke their gaze, an unreadable expression as his small hands stilled in his lap. His body began to sweat nervously as everything went off script and into uncharted territory. He had never expected this kind of scenario, his optimism had concentrated on different trails leading to happy endings. Never this. A small panic began to rise in his chest as the idea that Louis didn't want him was clearly presented. The thought left his chest painfully hollow and he was finding it harder to breath, each expansion of his lungs causing everything to ache. 

“I thought that... fuck... I thought we both felt...” he rattled off, raking his fingers through his hair, “But you don't... fuck! I'm... I'm sorry,” his voice shook slightly, “I'll just... I'll just be going.” He pushed himself up with his unsteady limbs, his fingers fumbling with the zip and snap of his bag. He bumbled about for a moment while he attempted to pull his coat on, not bothering to secure it closed before throwing his bag over his shoulder and heading towards the entrance. 

“Are you coming tomorrow?” a small voice stopped him short, his state not letting him fully understand the meaning behind his question. If he had been thinking properly, he might have detected some hope hidden in his tone. He bit at his lip as he chanced a small glance over to the other who had made himself quite small. Giving a small nod as his teeth pinched tighter at his flesh, he slipped outside and into the bitter cold that had taken over the evening.


	9. Louis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of a cliff hanger so if you'd like to wait a couple days and read the next two chapters together, it shouldn't be too long for it to be posted. I just really needed it to switch over at this point. A bit of a short chapter so I'm posting it closer to the last update. Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Oops to any mistakes that are in there. I'm not always my best proofreader.

Louis had been around the age of nine when he had what he remembers as the most vivid dream of his life. There had been an expanse of meadow to all sides of the horizon, the wild grass and flowers rolling on until his sight failed him. The sun was bright, warm on his tanned skin and he felt content like a baby chick huddled beneath a heating lamp. It was serene, the natural sounds of birds and insects humming around him against the rustle of the breeze between the plants. He remembers lying on his back in the center of a clover patch hidden right in the middle of it all, eyes closed in complete relaxation with a gentle smile stuck to his face. He had never felt such pure bliss pulsing through him and even through his subconscious knowledge that it was a dream, he never wanted to leave.

He was startled briefly from this state in the dream as he felt something touch his nose. Opening his eyes, he found a butterfly with large majestic wings had perched upon the tip of his nose, fanning its wings in a slow back and forth. So close to his eyes, one would think the creature would be startling but instead he just giggles, letting it stay right where it was. He let out another giggle as a second butterfly perched on his forehead and then again when several landed on the soft skin of his arms. Within a few moments he felt his whole body being covered by these delicate creatures, feeling honored that so many would flock to him with mass trust. It widened his smile as their little feet tickled his skin, trying to keep still as to not disturb them. One by one they all began to fly away, their colours and shapes moving together in a mass that looked like ripples in the water above him. When his eyes opened the next morning, the serene sensation stayed with him and remained vividly in his mind since.

This is the same state Louis awoke in the morning following Harry's swift departure, serene and calm with visions of butterflies swirling around his head. It was a much welcome reprieve to the inner turmoil he had endured the night before. The scene was on a constant loop in his mind, the word “date” echoing like a phantom against the walls of his room.

Of course he was attracted to him. He had spent hours staring at the alpha's face, the sharp slant of his jawline, the curves of his baby face, the bow of his lips. Of course he was drawn to him. Drawn to him enough to not kick him out, not once. He had refused to acknowledge all of those things formally before that singular word broke through his thoughts. It seemed now that once that torpedo had penetrated one layer of his defense walls, a flood had broken free. Now he could think of nothing else.

It had been honest shock the night before as he curled up in his bed, fighting to shut his thoughts down so he could finally sleep, when he felt himself growing hard, protesting against the rough fabric of his pants. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt a desire to do anything about that and yet there it was, demanding his attention loudly as if he'd asked for it. He tried desperately to convince himself that it had not been from his thoughts of Harry but catching just a hint of his scent left in the air had him writhing against the bed and unable to deny any of those desperate attempts to fool himself.

Giving in to the urge, he gripped himself tightly and turned his nose to hone in on the essence that Harry left behind every day. He came hard to the image of Harry's mouth around him, those sinfully long fingers sliding through his slick and teasing the sensitive nerves there. He lay there breathing heavily, stomach growing cold as the evidence of his actions cooled quickly around his navel. He had been looking for relief as he gave in but in the space following, found that it had given him almost none. His blood burned for it, burned for Harry, and it made him feel frighteningly weak and vulnerable. It had taken him hours to calm down after not allowing himself another go, slipping into sleep with gritted teeth and a set jaw.

With butterflies still swirling happily in his brain, he found that his body was not singing the same tune. He felt heavy and drained from his sleepless night, anxiety in his bones that maybe Harry really wouldn't come back. The weight of that thought kept him glued to his bed, kicking off the blankets as his body heat overwhelmed him.

He fell into a fitful sleep several times and failed to get up to start his daily routine. His limbs were too heavy and his brain was too full, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt so exhausted. Each time he woke he found himself covered in a cold sweat, shivering with the cool moisture clinging to his skin and cuddling into his nest of blankets. Moments later he would wake to overwhelming heat, kicking the blankets back off in what became a cycle over the next few hours.

Having limited himself in human interaction and also keeping himself clean, he had been very lucky in the years on his own to never contract more than a simple cold. It was very fortunate he hadn't. He wasn't sure how he would take care of himself if he truly became sick. The daily forage for food would be next to impossible if he felt as if he were on his death bed. As the day progressed, it became increasingly obvious that his luck had finally run out. The fever and restlessness that steadily became worse made his brain hazy, searching for sleep again after only briefly waking.

 

 

 

He wasn't sure the hour when his hearing felt unusually sharp, the shuffle of footsteps starling him awake. His eyes had remained closed, body relaxed with no alarm as he immediately knew it was Harry. The scent was warm and strong and since he was in such a vulnerable state, the familiarity and comfort were just what he needed, just what he craved.

“I think I'm sick today, you shouldn't stay,” he forced himself to croak out in his tired and unused voice, eyelashes still resting gently on his cheeks. There were several beats of unusual silence and no answer from the other before he opened his eyes to investigate, landing on Harry's frozen frame only halfway into the room. His body was rigid, face flushing pink with pupils dilated to hide nearly all the pigment. He had seen that face before, began to recognize the implication of those features and in a clash of realization and panic he willed his body into action.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted as he finally grasped onto the scent neutralizer spray that he hoped wasn't empty. He hastily sprayed himself down, rubbing his tongue to the roof of his mouth in disgust as he accidentally opens his mouth in path of the aerosol spray.

“Not helping, Lou,” Harry gritted out though his voice sounded scared. His nostrils flared and his eyes widened to his push across his point. He had barely moved a muscle, his knuckles white in their grip on his bag, body quivering slightly. He could see the struggle on Harry's face, the struggle to force himself to flee or stay and know exactly what that would mean. He could feel it in the air between them as he was facing the same emotional tug of war.   

It had been so long since his last heat, years even, that he hadn't even been looking for the signs. Every symptom he had brushed off through the day was finally piecing together, internally kicking himself for being so careless. Of course he would be going into heat after everything that had occupied his mind and his body the night before, the constant and reoccurring presence of Harry's scent.

“I think you hanging around triggered my heat,” he explained, struggling to string words together. He instantly regretted saying that simple sentence with the extra rush of air opening his mouth had given him. He couldn't help the way his eyes wanted to roll back at the sweet and satisfying aroma the alpha was giving off. It was easy to detect the arousal that had been mixed into that breath, the difference enhancing each aspect of the scent that was purely his instead of overpowering what was already there. As a master chef it meticulous about each hit of flavour, the redolent of Harry seemed fine tuned. The encompassing warmth of it surprised him, was so different to what he had remembered or expected if ever he found himself in this situation. The men in the alley had smelled bitter, the scent making the inside of his nose ache in what he now identified as forced arousal. Harry smelled pure and innocent and, above all, honest. He couldn't detect a hint of any malicious nature surrounding him.

Harry was obviously and not very successfully trying to hold his breath, his chest quivering slightly under his coat as he stuttered in a few short gasps through his mouth. He could tell Harry was trying to form words but the longer it took, the more he stumbled, the more he found he didn't care. He couldn't focus on what he was paying attention to anymore. Was Harry telling him something? God, is he going to get over here and help me already? He shook his head a bit, he needed to focus but he couldn't remember why.

He hazily became aware that he was naked, the heat of his body burning him from the inside out in what was becoming a painful way. Harry's here? When did he get here? It was too much to focus on, too much to make sense off when no one was calling the fire department to put out the flames burning him to death. Hips thrust against his blankets, rutting into the friction as his hands began to pull at his hair in frustration and pain. The heat was beginning to boil, strangled cries muffled into his pillow, muscles aching as he thrust his hips into the air, knees walking awkwardly beneath him towards his chest as he tried to present himself to Harry as wide and open as he could.

“Why are you still over there?” he groaned though he wasn't sure he had formed actual words. Harry's presence was everywhere around him. It clogged his senses and disoriented him, _alphaharryalphaharry_ and searing heat were the only things his body allowed him to think about. He was faced with one of the worst case scenarios he had overthought for himself. Alone and trapped by an alpha, vulnerable and desperate as he faced his heat.

This wasn't a stranger though, this was Harry. Harry who brought him food and talked about his mum and sister. Harry who stayed through his silence and wanted to date him. Harry who most certainly could put out the fire for him, could fill him up until the pain subsided but Harry was most certainly still very much clothed and too far away from him.

A loud groan ripped its way out of his throat as the pain began to filter to a point, concentrating its intensity his hole which was wetly clenching around nothing. It was growing so intense he was sure it rivaled child birth and in that moment swore he would never push a child out of there. It was torture to resist burying his fingers into his own hole. He needed something so badly but his need to present to the alpha was even stronger. His fingers would obstruct the perfect view he was currently holding and he needed his alpha to approve. He needed his knot before the fire turned him to ash.

There was shuffling behind him, movement and muttering of Harry's low voice that he couldn't quite make out. His whimpers were loud enough to drown out anything Harry was saying anyway, his mind going blank when he finally can't stand the pain any longer and wraps his own hand around himself. Cold sweat covering his skin made him clammy, strokes barely pleasurable as his sweat sticky palm catches over the sensitive skin of his shaft and prevents smooth motions. He doesn't have the luxury of lube at the moment nor the luxury of time to try something different. The harsh squeeze he gives himself makes his vision go white, face pressed into his pillow as he loses himself. Harry's scent was invading his system. He could feel it in every pore in his body, feel every part of him through his nose, feel the way he pulsed through his blood. Every moment he could feel it penetrating through his skin and it was a foreign experience he found himself welcoming as he unsuccessfully attempted to satisfy the burn.

The last thing he registered is a flash of Harry's naked torso, shirt being flung to the side. A large butterfly stretched across his pale skin in black ink and held his eyes for a few moments. It seemed the last thing he could focus on, perhaps the most important thing he could focus on, clinging to it as the butterflies from his dream began to swirl blissfully around his head. Whether he would gather the same meaning from this later with a clear mind or not, in that moment he felt that the butterflies he had woken with were no coincidence and a smile curled slowly onto his lips.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for stopping at this point!!! Don't hate me!


	10. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut. Hopefully tastefully written smut... but smut no matter how you look at it :)   
> A lot of confused and conflicted head spaces for this pair coming up. Hope you enjoy :)   
> And thank you for reading! Comments from my lovely readers are very motivating to get chapters done faster! Hope I didn't leave you hanging too long for this... I've been trying to step it up!

“This is hell. This has to be hell. Heaven in hell,” Harry's mind jumbled up as he tried to concentrate on not breathing through his nose. It smelled like diving into a ball pit of flower petals and was as enticing as a vat of hot fudge and if he moved just a single centimeter he was sure that he'd devour every last drop of it. It happened so fast in front of his clenched frozen body, Louis' wet hole pointed in his direction and soft naked skin on display before he had a chance to react.

 

His mouth was watering and he could feel his gag reflex twitch as he attempted to swallow. He learned in those moments that his nose and his dick were directly connected through invisible ties through his body. One small whiff traveled into his lungs, through his torso and straight between his legs where it triggered an immediate response. There had never been a time he had cursed himself more for squeezing into his skin tight jeans more than right then. Like a drug, it felt as if Louis' aroma had given him super powers, his erection straining so forcefully against his jeans that his button would surely pop free from the pressure, ricocheting around the room from the momentum. It made him gasp and grip himself through the material as an automated response, the touch only making his cock throb and his mind even more muddled.

 

His instincts were screaming at him in many different levels of volume. Louis' was moaning for him, Louis needed him, this is what he was created for. Zone in and conquer, claim and mark his territory, protect at all costs.

 

The rational part of his brain kept him glued to the doorway, the last shred of his self control refusing to give up hope until the last second. The rest of his ship was sinking fast but he wouldn't give up that last section of himself until there was no room left on the door.

 

Louis was begging for him, sobs pouring out of his body and tears on his cheeks. It ripped out his heart to hear his name, to hear Louis sobbing for the relief he knew he could give him. The tone of Louis' voice was breaking him. There was no way to describe the shift in his body other than how he would imagine being affected by an alpha voice were he a submissive. It was a powerful control that was slowly overriding every command in his brain.

 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers screaming at him in protest as they released their tight hold on his bag and ripped off his coat. “You don't have to knot him to help him through it,” he mumbled to himself, desperately trying to cling to those words, “Just keep himself until its done. That's it.” His voice doesn't come out as firm as his rational brain would want but it does help to center him just a little, repeating that mantra no more audible than a mumble. It settled him just a little before Louis begs for him again, slick visibly oozing from him obscenely. His shirt gets whipped off within seconds, landing on the floor with the mess of Louis' dirty clothing before he finds himself on the bed.

 

“Louis you're so gorgeous,” the praises fall from his mouth which stays just inches away from his rounded bottom, the curve so alluring.

 

“Fuck, please Harry, please,” Louis begs beneath him as he lets his tongue slip from between his tongue to slide flatly over his wet hole, both boys shuddering at the act.

 

“Never done this before,” his voice mumbled and slightly hesitant, not quite ready to let his instinct take total control. He wasn't sure how far the animal inside him would take it if let loose, even when holding back made him nervous. He would never hurt Louis, never wanted to, even if his instinct was to blame. He would never forgive himself.

 

Everyone heard and was told horror stories about sex and mating as they went through puberty. Though many were out there to promote abstinence and to refrain from their urges, there was also a terrifying truth that lay beneath. Some omegas were just too small or too young for a full grown alpha to not tear them apart. Inexperience also played a role in the safety for both parties. He couldn't deny that he had thought about sharing a heat with Louis more than once but surprisingly he found himself completely unprepared. There also seemed to be a lack of information on male omegas in the brief web searches he had performed and even less about the nature of their heats. Aside from the myth that the rare sex would be abnormally desperate and crazed during their heat, out to fuck anything that moved and to steal alphas away from their mates, there wasn't much else.

 

Harry was also very much a virgin. There had been several kisses, timid and awkward, that he had shared with girls when he first showed signs of his gender but that hardly compared to what was in front of him. A kiss gave him no experience to draw from when it came to sex and all the strings that came along with it. He had sowed no wild oats to teach him restraint when it came to resisting the urge to bite, mark and mate; to teach him to pull back when he was about to knot; to teach him anything about the functions of his own body when his hormones were in play.

 

“Harrrry,” ripped from Louis' panting body, knees parting further as he bent himself in half. His face was pressed into the blankets, his own erection pressing against his stomach with a purple hue that looked painful and uncomfortable. Harry reached out to slide one of his long fingers delicately from his hole, across the tightening skin of his balls and experimentally down the pulsing vein that lined the underside of his cock. Louis moaned loudly, Harry jumping back in surprise as strings of come shot violently onto his chest, gravity making the substance slowly travel towards the blankets.

 

“Fuck...” Harry muttered with his eyes glued to the scene. Everything was in sharp hyper focus for him in this state. It came with the addicting intoxication of seeing every detail in his line of vision in high definition, seeing the details of _Louis_. The soft blonde and nearly translucent hairs that covered the backs of his thighs made his lips twitch to kiss the sensitive skin. The moisture clinging to the deep crimson head of his dick, the bead of precum oozing out of his slit to mix with the white remains of his orgasm made his tongue burn to taste it. The microscopic twitches of his clenched hole that grew increasingly wet made his nostrils flair to breathe him in as if it were difficult to pull in air. His eyes rolled back at the new wave of scent, body twitching to bury himself deep in that heat.

 

Harry's large hand was now wrapped around his own throbbing dick and even after looking down as he stroked himself, he could not remember the motions of taking off his jeans or his pants which were crumpled on he other side of the room. The air felt abnormally cold against his burning skin but it was a welcome relief, clearing his head just enough to make his mouth form words.

 

“Tell me you want me to help you,” he forced out though his voice broke several times, “Say no right now if you're going to.” His teeth sunk into his bottom lip hard enough to cause a sharp pain, to prepare himself to leave if that was the answer though he knew he would still sit directly outside until it was over. He wouldn't be able to leave him unprotected. It would be hard enough just to move that far.

 

“Harry, please,” Louis sobbed, “Your knot, please, I need it.” The tone of his whimpers again made his body shiver and that was it.

 

He couldn't hold himself back any longer. Those few short minutes had been the most excruciating and overwhelming thing he had ever experienced and the relief he sought was far stronger than a craving. The influence of pheromones changed him, made it different than any period of rut he had made it through. The need to jerk off continuously was nothing compared to the need he felt to plunge into the warmth radiating from the flesh in front of him.

 

Kneeling upright behind Louis, his hand wrapped around the curve of his hip to position his body, thumb pulling his cheek back to expose him even more. The whimpering beneath him became more desperate and he wasn't lost enough to feel the fear and anxiety that had just started to lace his pure scent.

 

“I'll take care of you,” Harry told him in a voice so deep and calming that he surprised himself. Louis' instantly calmed a bit and he wondered just briefly if his alpha voice had taken that tone. Gripping himself, he ran the head of his dick against the slick, moaning in pure pleasure.

 

His fingers dug into the flesh of Louis' skin as he pushed forward, the stretch around him causing his breath to hitch and his chest to rumble out a groan. It was one long, slow, agonizing slide until his hips were pressed firmly against rounded cheeks and that was all it took for his life to irreparably change. Like the warm, comforting and blissful state between being alert and falling into sleep, the tight heat wrapped around his nerves and sent his body into a warm pleasure. The noises that came from Louis' throat sounded so beautiful. He was so wrapped up in being the one to cause those sounds that only when Louis began to nudge his hips back against him did he realize he had yet to move.

 

The hot drag as he pulled back made his eyes roll, lashes fluttering in his vision as he pushed forward yet again. Instinct was there to guide him and he let his hips fall into a rhythm that had both of them whining with relief. Louis' hair that was still messy in a puff of bed head bounced with each of his thrusts in the most endearing way, a focal point before letting his eyes wander a trail down the muscle definition of his back. It was subtle but present, the idea that Louis was probably capable of man handling him was oddly arousing. It was in an alpha's nature to be the muscle in the relationship, to be dominate over his omega and perhaps that was one reason why male omegas were so unwanted. Harry found that maybe the opposite for him was true. The bulge and curve of the omega's biceps as he held himself up made Harry immediately fantasize about being thrown against the bed, pinned down and ridden into bliss.

 

Harry was grunting loudly with each thrust, nostrils flaring with each heavy breath. He hunched his body forward, bare chest against bare back, and slid an arm around Louis' torso to hold him close. Delicately at first, his lips pressed kisses over the soft skin of his shoulders, the movement growing heated until he was sucking purple marks in a line up to the juncture of his neck, the mating point. As his lips latched on to the spot, the moan that left Louis' throat stuttered his hips awkwardly. Almost slipping out first, he picked his rhythm back up, large hand circling Louis' untouched girth.

 

Swears and incoherent syllables poured from Louis' mouth, hips jolting back to meet each thrust before pushing forward into the tight grip of Harry's hand around him in an intense back and forth. He was so close it felt like he was floating, the heat in his body dulling all of his nerves into a confused state of euphoria as it began to build to a point in the space the center of his pelvis.

 

“Knot me!” echoed a desperate voice. He had been on the verge of forcing himself to pull out when those words put a quick stop to that. Several things happened at once as his knot expanded and locked them together without a clear warning. Being midthrust, his backwards pull caused a tug that made him yelp out in pain, collapsing down on top of Louis while he sobbed beneath him in what sounded like both pleasure and pain, again soiling the blankets beneath them as he was being filled. Lips still against the mating spot, he would have told himself to pull his face and bared teeth away had the pull at his knot not shocked him so intensely. His teeth pierced flesh for a satisfying moment before another cry of pain was ripping out in a volume supported by the full capacity of his lungs. Yanking back to cause another uncomfortable tug to his knot, he took in the bloody ring that was now present on his own forearm. At least his body had some sense of restraint, shoving his arm beneath his teeth in one last rational act.

 

With the desperation now dissipating from the clouded air, everything instantly began to feel awkward between them. They were locked together, his come still pulsing hotly with a force that he'd never felt when he touched himself. It was pleasurable and relaxing, a release of tension his body had never known. His inexperience had ruined the moment, though. The painful motion he had made in the height of their climax seemed to set a new mood, both of their minds clearing enough to realize the situation they now found themselves in. Louis was still pressed into the blankets awkwardly, fighting for breath, and Harry's muscles felt too weak and shaky to hold himself up.

 

Gently, he attempted to situate the pair in a more comfortable position, the movements causing him to pull their connection painfully several times until they were both on their sides, back pressed against chest. He was no longer a virgin but because he had never knotted anyone before this, he had no idea how long his knot would last. Getting himself off, it went away almost immediately, his body knowing there was no need for it. Buried deep inside Louis, it could stay for days for all he knew.

 

Neither of them spoke, both searching for words but having none as they stayed in one of the most intimate connections imaginable. Locked together physically while at the same time finding themselves locked away in their own minds, tormented with their thoughts and reservations while their bodies buzzed with a shared level of endorphins that somehow temporarily took the edge off their uncomfortable situation.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wasn't so bad, was it? Come say hi to me :) (jaerie.tumblr.com)


	11. Louis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so um holy shit its been quite a day, hasn't it?? i mapped this out in my head last night laying in a hotel bed kept wide awake by my mother snoring across the room during the trip i took her on... so i've been up for approximately 40 hours straight and typed this all up over the course of several hours (with a single!louis drama break in the middle) tonight. since I'm probably fairly delirious at this point, i may regret posting this chapter prematurely when i wake up in the morning but i read through it and everything seems to make sense... hopefully. and my longest chapter yet which is information i should maybe use for further sleep deprivation situations. the opening smut also got a bit dirtier than i intended it to be... but oh well, enjoy the sechs
> 
> anyhoo... enjoy :) thank you for reading, love to hear from you, thank you as always for your lovely comments, mwah!

Louis slowly awakes in a blissful dream like state to a soft nosing at his neck, curls softly touching on his skin from the puppy furnace pressed against his back. Soft whimpers close to his ear makes his eye lashes flutter, the nature of them letting him know the body behind him is still asleep. He allows himself to enjoy the soft warm feeling on his skin and the comforting sounds for a moment in the floating haze between sleep and alert, reveling in the fuzzy bliss. The stiff alpha cock pressed against the rise of his cheeks brings him to full consciousness, the wet tip making it's presence known against the small of his back with the small motions of their bodies. His mouth instantly begins to water as his nerves sizzle back to life making him once again aware of the heat flushing through his body. As if his limbs have a mind of their own, he finds his own hand already wrapped firmly around his own seemingly endless erection, his entire girth pulsing a deep crimson colour in his grip. 

The nosing at his neck slowly turns into lazy kisses against his shoulder as Harry slowly wakes, lips moving to the juncture of his neck. His mouth latches on to the spot softly, sucking a bruise into the mating spot as their hips rut against each other. A gush of slick oozes from his hole with the attention on such a sensitive spot, a moan leaving his moist parted lips. 

“Please,” he whimpers, barely audible with his face half pressed into his blankets. Reaching behind himself, he wraps his hand around Harry's shaft, wiggling his hips as he attempts to maneuver it with a protesting elbow at such a strange angle. Harry is quick on the uptake as he fists himself and guides the head directly to his wet hole, circling it there against the tight ring of muscle at a teasingly slow pace. Louis whimpers out impatiently and clenches around nothing, the emptiness consuming his thoughts and his instinctual needs. 

Harry moans deeply near his ear, a small motion rocking their bodies he begins to press in, the stretch of his large size simultaneously burning and satisfying his begging body. He pauses his hips in his invasion of Louis' body halfway, panting to gain control as he lets Louis adjust to the intrusion. The craving had become a need within a short few moments of Harry's teasing and Louis was unable to stop his motions, thrusting his own hips back to take his entire length in deep, keeping the pressure constant even as his cheeks press against Harry's hips. Their moans seem to harmonize like a grand symphony as the sensation of tight verses stretching overtakes them both, a large hand moving to his hip for leverage. Harry noses down to the easily identifiable pulse point at his neck, groaning as his grip tightens. 

“You smell so... fucking... good...” he growls against his skin after inhaling a deep breath through his nostrils, the timbre of his voice sending a shock straight through Louis' body to pool and concentrate low in his torso. Come shoots violently onto the blanket in front of him in response to the tone of his deep voice, the force of his orgasm leaving little time for him to enjoy the feeling and bringing no relief to the ache that continues to burn wildly within him. 

Harry gathers him in close, one hand moving to splay across his stomach while the other slides beneath his body to do the same on his chest. Their bodies press together tightly as his hips begin to move in slow deliberate thrusts, each motion pushing in deeper though not yet satisfying the ache. 

Harry's hand slides around the curve of his hip, the sharp point of his pelvis making him briefly self conscious about his low weight and body fat though the touch doesn't linger there. He creates a path along the crease of his thigh meeting its pivot point, moving to cup his balls which feel light and empty with their contents previously spilled over the blanket around them. 

“Nice and empty for me... gonna come again for me?” Harry murmurs against his skin as his fingers fondle them, the intimate touch making Louis nervous while also making him want it more. His wandering phalanges move to grip his shaft, teasing him with a few feathery strokes matching his murderously slow thrusts from behind. A foreign sounding whimper leaves his throat as he feels the mix of blunt and pointed teeth against the juncture of his shoulder. Resting his teeth against the mating spot, the pressure he applies there with his bite makes Louis bare his neck for his alpha with a submissive whine, face pressing further into his makeshift bed. It was no where near enough to break the skin but the mere ghosting of the act had his body shuddering once again under the implied power, barely a dribble pulsing from his swollen slit as another orgasm rolls through him. A thumb slides over his head to catch the small amount present there from his release, smearing it over his length before traveling up the hint of hair leading North. 

“I can feel myself inside you,” Harry mumbles, pressing his palm into the soft flesh just below his belly button. The pressure makes the assault on his prostate more intense than it already had been, his own hand moving to rest atop Harry's. He intertwines their fingers, grips locking securely as they press against his skin as if both were holding on for dear life. He can feel the alpha's confidence growing as his thrusts become more purposeful, the power behind his movements growing as he breathes heavily and buries his nose into Louis' damp hair muttering swears and nonsense syllables. 

“Gonna give you what you need... gonna knot you so good,” Harry mumbles, his lips traveling back to the spot he has steadily been claiming for himself. His nose presses against his pulse point to inhale the scent that Louis can only imagine is as intoxicating if not more so than the one Harry has been filling his own senses with. The timbre Harry's voice had taken on with him engulfs his brain like one of his own thoughts, moving over his mind like a chalkboard eraser leaving behind a film of dust in its wake while blurring everything that had been written there before. It makes him pliant in the alpha's control, baring his neck as his hole clenches desperately in attempts to hold him in, feeling the base of his dick thicken with each stroke. 

Harry begins to come with a pleasurable groan, teeth sinking into his skin hard enough to leave a bruise in the spot he consistently gravitates to. His hold is jerked away suddenly with a loud yelp before the skin is broken, Harry's knot popping midstroke which pulls painfully for both parties and makes his inexperience uncomfortably apparent. The lack of experience and knowledge of his own body's reactions was somehow comforting to Louis. Learning to trust nobody, the theory of Harry targeting Louis as his next conquest had entered his mind more than a few times, leery as he waited for him to pounce. As his heat had unexpectedly made its appearance, Harry's at times clumsy performance had successfully squashed the theories about him being anything more than a naïve little puppy with rosy ideals and expectations. His mind was too muddled in his current predicament to launch an in depth analysis though he files those bits of information away to revisit at a time when the other boy was not actively pumping hot satisfying come into his partially sated body. 

 

 

Louis awoke slowly after an immeasurable amount of time feeling groggy as if he had just been in a deep sleep, his mind clear and skin chilled without the fever of heat overwhelming him. The first thing he notices is the heat pressed against his back in contrast to the exposed skin of his other half. He indulges in their entwining limbs, only letting himself acknowledge briefly how safe and protected he feels being held so closely. It is an encompassing warmth that reached deep inside his soul and just fell into place. Something about it just felt right. He would deny it later that he allowed himself to feel this way but there was something about their position that made him feel as if he deserved all of the tender passionate contact they had shared together though he knew that he didn't. In the serenity of the moment as Harry slept peacefully and soundly at his back, he found that he was not as anxious about the situation as he would have thought he would be. Through his most vulnerable moments, as far as he could tell anyway, he had come out just the same if not better on the other side. He could feel aches residing in places over his body but instead of fear and violence he found himself feeling a bit smug about his condition. 

Apart from mutterings in the midst of their carnal activities, they had yet to initiate any fragment of a conversation about the situation they had found themselves in. Louis' briefly lucid moments had quickly given over to sleep after each round only to wake with the same burning need that overpowered any type of logical behaviour. Nothing had been discussed prior to their sexual encounter and the consequences of that he knew were only moments away. He knew all too well from gender education in school that boundaries and conditions were important things to discuss when it came to getting through heats, especially before the participants have mated, but it was something he had never had to deal with before. No one had ever been interested with him in a setting where mutual trust and boundaries applied. He hadn't even suffered through a heat alone in years. 

There was a spark of bitterness hidden just below the surface that he knew was reserved for Harry in all of this. The alpha's reoccurring role in his life and the lingering scent that was now a regular presence in his home was no doubt to blame for the reappearance of his heats. He felt the stew of emotions not quite to a boil, the blame he was sure to throw, but he found it difficult to work himself up when such a secure embrace was keeping him safe. 

Louis shifts his position slightly, hand withdrawing quickly from the blankets beneath them as it collides with what he can only assume is his own crusty white come. He cracks his eyes open and immediately recoils at the amount of body fluids now visibly covering his bed. A small shift of his position makes the state of his body instantly clear as well, skin in various places feeling tight as if someone had taken a glue stick to him in his sleep where slick and semen had collected. Even his hair felt stiff in places and he groans audibly, the comfortable bubble he had tucked himself into instantly bursting. He pries himself out of Harry's grip, desperate to feel clean and fresh. The visible and physical evidence of his heat became more than enough to turn the stove up on his boiling emotions, his breath coming heavily, beginning to panic his way through the the possible outcomes that would transpire when the curly kid came back to consciousness. 

He had never felt more disgusting in his life, in the physical sense anyway. Rolling around in their mess had been the least of his worries mere hours ago but now it was too much. He needed a shower and he needed it now. Only when the evidence was long spiraled down the drain could he rationally think about what he would do next. Looking over his shoulder he eyes Harry's face carefully for a moment, watching for any signs of waking before slowly creeping from the soiled scene of the crime. Without much thought he heads for Harry's skinnies laying discarded in the center of the floor. Rifling through each pocket he searches for his wallet. Surely he would have at least a few notes he could swipe to get himself into the nearest locker room with accessible showers. He instead pulls his hand out holding three bright red paperclips, a gum wrapper, an eraser shaped like a teddy bear with one ear worn down from use and a one hundred dollar Monopoly money bill with a modest grocery list scribbled on the back. Bread, cheese, milk, sugar. He glances up at the sleeping boy then back to the contents of his hands before dropping them all unceremoniously onto the floor. 

The shoulder bag was next on his list, crawling the few feet on his knees to reach it. Surely he had cash tucked somewhere. Serving as Louis' delivery boy on most days there had to be a way he purchased the food in the first place. He digs through the random contents of the bag before finding an expensive looking leather wallet tucked into the bottom. 

“What are you doing?” a sleepy voice startles him in the act of pulling a wad of bills from the folds. His body freezes with his eyes ahead, unable to look away from the toned, lean and long body stretching out nakedly in front of him. There was no hint of shame or embarrassment in Harry's eyes as he yawns widely, dick half hard between his narrow and appealing hips. That beautiful masterpiece rested layed out on a bed that Louis had just minutes ago been disgusted by, yawn pulling his perfectly shaped lips open before the sleepy eyes moved back to his paralyzed stance. 

“Was just going to borrow some cash for a shower, yeh?” Louis attempts to speak, voice squeaking and a tad higher than his usual pitch. 

“Since when do you need cash for a shower?” he questions groggily, blinking the remnants of sleep away. 

“There's a public pool not too far from here...” he begins but cuts himself off as the expression on Harry's face shifts quickly. Watching the pity etching itself into his features became enough to make everything boil dangerously closet to the edge of the pot. He hardens his face as he pulls out the bills, not bothering to look at their denominations before he wads them up in his fist tightly, tossing the wallet to his right. 

“You could just come to mine,” Harry's deep voice breaks with sleep, scratching absently at the dusting of hair guiding a path from his navel down. Louis can't help but let his eyes linger, even biting his lip unconsciously as he does. There hadn't been time or need to admire his naked body and with his pale flesh on display without hesitation or reservation, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to take in an eye's full. It wasn't until a smirk began to curl the edges of Harry's lips that he realized that he, too, was still starkers, standing there with nothing but the wad of cash clutched tightly against his palm. 

“I...” he begins but he couldn't deny how appealing it sounded to take a shower in an actual home. A shower with an actual closing door with a working lock. A shower that didn't promise a show to whomever walked by the weak excuses for curtains or open cubicles that came with public locker rooms. He knew he shouldn't, he really did. The spiral down the road to self indulgence was a slippery one and somewhere along the way he had let his shoes become slick with oil. Small comforts were the gateway to other comforts and luxuries. His mind said no while his crusty disgusting body reeking of sweat screamed yes. 

 

 

The streets are abnormally packed with pedestrians when he finds himself trudging after Harry, his short legs struggling to keep up with the lanky lad's pace especially as he fights to carry his blankets behind him pulled up into a makeshift hobo stick bag. Soiled sides folded in, it bounces against his back with each quick step, crust covered skin uncomfortable under the rough fabric of his jeans, hair tucked beneath a beanie that Harry had pulled out of his magical bag. His nose became red as he trailed the alpha, the brisk air slapping him into the full reality of what he was doing and the situation he was willingly putting himself in. 

He looks ahead to the puppy in front of him almost bouncing happily along with each step and a carefree smile on his face. He glances back every dozen paces to make sure Louis' still in tow. His instinct told him to turn and scramble away, pack up his few possessions and look for a new, secure and unknown place to wait out the winter. The slick dampened chapping cheeks of his bottom disagree and so he trudges onward with the promise of laundering his blankets and having a proper shower. 

Their last few days, as he had calculated via the date on Harry's phone, were being treated as if nothing abnormal had happened. Neither had brought it up past the small discussion of laundering their sex soiled blankets. He wanted to say something, wanted cut any ties or bond traces that may have formed carelessly between them, wanted to let all of his confusion and conflicting emotions out in one heated and insulting rant. The momentum of each word he tried to force out kept getting suck in his throat each time Harry threw back a deeply dimpled grin that lit up the sparkles in his eyes. He seemed on top of the world and while he questioned his judgement on the issue, it seemed that his happiness had been caused by Louis. It was a feeling that warmed his chest and put out the small fires that made it to the tip of his tongue. Being the cause of someone's happiness was something he was not accustomed to and it rendered him speechless, mouth opening and closing in an attempt to recall how to speak, the entire walk to Harry's flat near campus. 

Though Harry assured him no one would even glance his way, he kept his head facing the pavement and his beanie pulled down to his eyebrows. University students could be some of the worst bullies. Free minds without the fear of consequences kept him away from this area as often as he could manage. 

The stairs were endless to reach the flat Harry finally pulled out a single key for hooked onto a tourist looking keychain of a dolphin. The door swung open with a haunting squeak that set Louis on edge. He nearly bolts down the stairs ready to abandon his blankets before the tall boy is taking the bundle from him, ushering him inside. It wasn't much but it wasn't as abused as the stairs suggested it might be. The studio apartment felt cozy and lived in, pictures of what he assumed to be his family resting in mismatched frames on every flat service. 

His eyes roam to the bed on the far edge of the room, various stuffed animals lined up against his pillows in order of height. A large pink bear with a bow stood out as the largest, his fur looking worn and broken in as if he had been a bed buddy to someone for years. Without dwelling on it he takes in the rest of the flat. A button up shirt hangs loosely over one of his two kitchen chairs, the pattern covered in motor cycles that reminds Louis of pajamas he had owned as a child. A few steps further into the space reveals the small but adequate bathroom. He squints slightly into the dimly lit space to make out frogs and monkeys covering the clear shower curtain in addition to a matching monkey soap pump, toothbrush holder and hand towel. 

“Christ, you really are a puppy,” Louis mutters to himself not expecting to look up and find the puppy himself beaming at the apparent complement. 

“Towels are underneath the sink and you can use whatever you want in the shower. I'm just going to run across the hallway and start this in the machine. Make yourself at home,” Harry beams, loosened curls bouncing around his face as he grabs an organized laundry caddy from beneath the kitchen sink and skips his way to the door. 

Louis looks after him with a range of observations categorizing themselves in a way that hardly gelled with the harsh and negative emotions still churning inside of him. He looks towards the door for another few seconds before the itch of his skin and a whiff of his body odor sends him gratefully into the privacy of a real shower.


	12. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never mean for time to escape me like it does. Thank you to all the messages sent to me on tumblr about updating because it really does make it a lot more motivating to finish the next update when I know there are people reading. :) I also think I'm quite fond of the Louis of this chapter.
> 
> Also not that it really has anything to do with the chapter but the soundtrack of me writing this was Marit Larsen's new album When The Morning Comes. I'm so in love with it. Her voice is just so adorable and well she's just an adorable girl in general. Everyone should check her out 
> 
>  
> 
> .

Harry has always been a momma's boy. Even with the pressures from his father he would never pass up the opportunity to be glued to his mum's side, preening under her praise and affections, even accepting the same from his adoring sister. Looking at his time spent at home, the comparison could easily be made between him and the family cat. They both enjoy frequent naps wherever they happen to fall, both circling his mum begging for tastes while dinner is being prepared, both enjoying the warmth of the sun. Neither would ever pass up an opportunity to curl up in a lap either, purring in their own ways as they lean into the hand that lovingly pets them. His mum's fingers through his curls is easily one of most relaxing things he has experienced, better than even a full body massage in his opinion.

 

With so much attention placed on him growing up the youngest in such a mothering environment, he rarely found himself searching out other companionship. Its not that Harry is antisocial, its never been a conscious decision, but when you're not lacking, there just isn't a need to put forth more social effort than is necessary. That is why he has never had company over to his small single occupant student flat and the reason he has never entertained on his own. Aside from the fact that he doesn't regularly attend his classes, he has never felt the need to hang around with the macho alphas, has never fit in with the nerdy alphas and the omegas would never let him into their inner circle while they assume he has a different agenda. His parents always pushed the propoganda that his lasting friendships would be made during his years as uni but so far the baristas and waitresses who knew him as a regular, the ones who knew his “usual”, were as close as he had come.

 

Until Louis, that is. Even in their mostly one sided relationship he hadn't yearned for more. The alpha mentality was to want and then take anyone they desired but it didn't sit well with his soul. Especially when the one he wants to claim is a boy. His sexual orientation had hit him like a full speed semi truck, blind siding him with an explanation to so many of the struggles of his youth. While he was completely accepting of his new sense of self, it was also brand new. Sudden movements were sure to send him scampering off nervously, too much too soon, too much to process.

 

Had things with Louis gone any faster than the snail pace they had started with, he wasn't sure he would still be bringing sandwiches with him every afternoon. He didn't want to _take_ and _claim_ Louis, he wanted it to be mutual. Or that's what he had wanted before the last several days had happened. 

 

He can still hear the water running steadily in the shower but the opportunity to be alone for a moment to sort out his thoughts only has him feeling more frazzled about what had happened between them. He finds himself in the corner designated as the kitchen, teacups knocking together in shaky hands as he takes them down from the cupboard. Steam is beginning to rise from the kettle on the stove, ready to whistle at any moment. The building pressure seems to transfer to his body, knotting up the nerves in his stomach like the sturdy ones on a ship, holding tight.

 

Most of his mornings were spent at the cafe, afternoons and evenings now as well, and he realizes with embarrassment that since he purchased most of his meals, his cupboards and fridge are disappointingly empty. He pulls at his bottom lip as he stares at the sparse contents of his fridge. His mind desperately tries to create an edible snack out of a stick of butter, mayonnaise, a block of cheese and several questionable take away boxes. His concentration is so deep that the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open startles him enough to flail his arms, body landing against the fridge with an echoing thud.

 

Long ago he had accepted his spacey nature but his brain absolutely stops at the beautiful sight framed by the door. It isn't enough that Louis' hair is still damp and loose around his face, no, he is also nearly naked, skin still flushed pink from the heat of the water. His skin looks delicious, his tongue swiping over his lip as he imagines licking every inch of his smooth chest.

 

It takes him a moment to gather that he is being addressed by the gorgeous creature, disorienting himself as he unsuccessfully attempts to act smooth.

 

“Do you have something I could wear...?” Louis asks, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot under Harry's stare. Louis in Harry's clothes. Louis wants to wear Harry's clothes. It sends him in another stuttering moment as he fumbles the fridge door closed and goes to his small dresser. He pulls out a pair of his little black boxer briefs, sliding the drawer closed again. The sight he catches of Louis' wandering eyes makes him realize that a pair of his little black boxer briefs is all he got around to putting on when he returned from the laundry. Blushing pink, he takes the few short steps to hand them over, his eyes traveling down the V of his exposed hips, following their path to the shadow of hair barely covered by the loosely placed towel around his waist. It would only take a flick of his finger for the towel to drop to the floor and the temptation is almost too much for him to fight.

 

“Whatever you need, yeh?” he offers with a smile, the exchange only slightly uncomfortable with their mostly unclothed bodies and their now clear thinking minds. Louis slips back into the bathroom to change while he goes to wipe his sweaty palms on his thighs, cursing as he meets skin and is again reminded of his own state of undress.

 

The thought gets pushed aside again as the kettle begins to howl, rushing over to remove it from the heat of the burner with a practiced motion. Like a proper host he sets two cups of tea to steep, cursing himself yet again for procrastinating his grocery shopping. He doesn't even have any milk on hand.

 

With a teacup in each hand, he turns away from the counter and his body forgets how to move for another brief moment. There before him, pulling on the hem of Harry's tshirt that is much to long for him, is Louis. His face is freshly shaven and his damp hair slicked back with a height that only draws more attention to his sharp cheek bones and strong jawline. Louis has never been in his apartment before but it feels so familiar he has to remind himself that it is not deja vu.

 

“Tea?” he asks, carrying their beverages to the table, one in front of each chair. “I apologize in advance that I don't have any milk but I think I might have some sugar packets or something in one of the drawers...”

 

He is aware of how flustered he sounds but like a giant elephant standing on the other side of the room, there is too much between them that has yet to be addressed. A few days before, he had never even had sex with someone let alone ridden out a heat with them. If there was a protocol for the morning after a heat has faded, he is most definitely not well versed in it.

 

The worn out and previously abused kitchen drawers bang about as he pulls them open, rummaging through each for some sugar packets he might have shoved away after ordering take out. The second drawer of his search gets a bit stuck, Louis' voice pausing his actions mid-yank.

 

“Its fine, I'm not used to anything fancy. Or tea at all really,” Louis assures him, pulling the worn in tshirt down past his bum before taking a seat on one of the chairs. The apprehension had appeared in across expression again, timidly bringing the warm cup towards himself with both hands wrapped around it as he keeps a cautious eye on Harry.

 

Harry gives up his search and comes to take a seat across from him, mirroring the position of the boy's hands in front of him. There is a long stretch of silence between them as Louis stares down into his tinted hot water, eyes a bit unfocused as he waits for the liquid to cool enough to sip. Harry does the same but watches him in his periphery, takes in how exhausted he looks, how his shoulders slip like the weight of the world has caused them to sag. It seems a vulnerable posture so different from the rigid and alert state he normally is in. So many boundaries had been broken and though Harry had never meant to break through Louis' walls in this way, it appears that he has. Vulnerable and defeated is how Harry labels his observations, both things that chip painfully at his heart.

 

“I'm um... really sorry if I took advantage of you,” Harry forces his voice to break the silence, words sliding out fast and jumbled, “I really tried but, well, I only really just realized that I'm gay and I've never been around anyone who has smelled attractive to me and I just...”

 

Louis cuts him off with a small shake of his head and a wave of his hand, “No, I was coherent enough to give my consent... at the beginning anyway.”

 

“I just know that we never talked about it before and, actually... you don't really talk much in the first place,” the crease between his brows deepens as his own cup of tea becomes the only thing he can look at as he spews his jumbled thoughts out on the table, “I mean I don't regret it, god it was so good, I just couldn't control myself smelling that for the first time and--”

 

“I'm not on anything,” Louis blurts out in the middle of his ramble, silence immediately settling between them again. “Suppressants, I mean,” he clarifies, his eyes hesitantly peeking from under his lashes to meet Harry's eyes. The usually striking blue of Louis' irises are now stormy, dark and churning like an approaching summer storm.

 

“You're not?” he finally asks with a bit of disbelief, pressure rising on his throat like a turtle neck that is much too tight and constricting. He had never met an unbonded omega that hadn't been on suppressants since their first heat, couldn't imagine why an unbonded omega wouldn't _want_ to be.

 

“I haven't had a heat in years, Harry, _years_. I've hardly had a need for them let alone even finding a way to get them in my position,” Louis' voice had taken on a bitter bite, snapping back at him with a force most omegas would never dream of addressing an alpha with. Had he not been raised by his strong and open minded omega mother, Louis lack of respect would already have him cowering under the weight of his alpha reprimand. That wasn't Harry, though, never had been. And if he had to admit it, he actually found Louis' dominance appealing, seductive even. The first time Louis had pulled that knife on him he had wild fantasies of the omega taking control, riding him with all the fight pent up in his tiny body. He wasn't proud of the amount of times that image had made him come since.

 

Harry clears his throat also clearing his mind of all the power bottoming images he had spontaneously conjured up even in those few seconds.

 

“So what do we do?” he finally asks.

 

Louis lifts his tea to his lips, taking several small sips and avoiding eye contact before giving a small shrug. “Dunno,” he finally responds.

 

“We didn't bond though,” he says after a moment, pulling at his bottom lip, eyes blankly fixed to the wall behind Louis' head.

 

“You don't have to be bonded to get pregnant, Harry,” he snaps again, the edge to his voice sending a twinge down through his dick even with the delicate subject matter. “Its just pretty much guaranteed if you are. I don't even remember how many times you knotted me but I know that you did and I know it was more than just a couple times. And being around you so often lately was more than likely the reason _why_ I went into heat after all this time. I don't even want to THINK about the implications of _that_.”

 

It wasn't a scientific fact but he knew what Louis was referring to. In the same way that soul mates connect on a spiritual level, its suggested that the body reacts to someone who would make an ideal mate. Its a common theme in romance literature and movies, a spontaneous heat or rut drawing the predestined couple together. A hormonal mating call of sorts to produce the best offspring. 

 

A hint of a fond smile edges on the corners of his lips as he lets his thoughts briefly ponder them being drawn together by biological fate. He had to admit he liked the idea. 

 

But being biologically matched also increased the chance of pregnancy by a percentage that he didn't want to focus on at the moment. 

 

“How could you not think of that while you were ripping your jeans off, _Harold_ ,” he continues, the anger in his voice growing the more he speaks. Before today he had heard maybe a few sentences worth of words during their meetings but now the flood gates had apparently been blown wide open. His accent became increasingly sharper but Harry still clung to every syllable, every sound. “I was in a right state, yeh? That should be an alpha's responsibility. Don't you carry around condoms in your wallet?? Isn't that standard alpha protocol?? Rule number one in the how to be a fucking alpha guidebook??” 

 

The air between them had grown heavy and heated even though Harry could tell the anger was misplaced. They had both been beyond rational thought by the time he was ripping his jeans off.

 

“I don't exactly going around fucking everyone, _Lewis,_ ” he snaps back, his voice barely containing a fraction of the bite Louis' had gained, “It was my first time, okay??” 

 

The volume of his last words had risen as he pushed them out quickly, nearly shouting frantically at him across the table by the end. They stare at each other for a few pregnant moments, the fight slowly but visibly draining from Louis, both of them coming back to the reality of the conversation. 

 

“Really?” he asks, leaning forward to rest his chin in against his hand. With the malice gone from his tone, Louis now sounded genuinely intrigued by this confession, eyes locking to await an explanation. “Don't you all have some type of alpha fucking quota to meet before you're worthy of your status?” 

 

There was enough weight to the question that Harry knew he was being serious, adding in just enough sarcasm to cover up the hurt he could see pooling in Louis' eyes over the topic. 

 

“No, of course not. I just... well like I said earlier, I just realized I was gay. When I met you. No, not when I met you. When I saw you, when I smelled you. I've just never been interested in anyone. I had started thinking I'd end up living with my mum forever with our houseful of cats.” 

 

It would have been easy to lighten the mood with a joke about ending up a cat lady but it was a destiny he had come to accept as his. A destiny he had anyway until skipping class led him to the beautiful creation who was now in front of him in his very own flat. 

 

Louis seemed to be weighing his response, his eyes narrowed as he assesses Harry's expression. “I would think you're lying but looking back, the first time you  _were_ irritatingly uncoordinated.”

 

Harry frowns at that, brows knitting together in offense. He opens his mouth to defend himself but Louis beats him to it. 

 

“I mean, still the best I've had. I haven't... I've never...” he pauses in another moment of vulnerability, eyes dropping to his hands fidgeting in his lap. Taking in a deep breath for a pause, letting it out before confessing, “I've never had consensual sex before... and even if you're still looking at it like you took advantage of me, you still... took care of me. Made it good. So... thank you for that.” 

 

Harry could tell it made him extremely uncomfortable to let his guard down enough to admit those things, his hand automatically sliding across the table to touch Louis' arm in a small act of comfort. Of course he couldn't understand what Louis had been through, he didn't even know more than a few tidbits so far, but seeing even a hint of distress on his face already made him want to tuck Louis somewhere safe, protect him at all costs. He could even feel his instinctual alpha boiling at the base of his spine urging him to track down the men who had already hurt his boy, the ones who had caused him to build such a guarded fortress around himself. 

 

“I'm not like those men. I never will be,” he says firmly, ducking his head just enough to catch eye contact with him again, “If you had told me no, I would have left. If I'm being honest I probably would have growled and guarded your door while jerking off to your smell until it was over,” he blushes deeply at that admission, “But I wouldn't have forced myself on you.” 

 

Louis nods, looking back down to his lap. “I know.” 

 

“You know?” the question tumbles out. From the time they'd spent together and the knife Louis kept close, not quite hidden from view, Harry assumed he felt the opposite. That Louis still thought an attack was imminent. 

 

“Yea. I know. If you were going to you would have done it already. You would have taken what you wanted and then left without looking back. Regularly feeding the victim usually isn't part of the deal.”

 

“So you trust me?” he asks hopefully, his eyes lighting up before a loud rapping on the door causes them both to jump. 

 

Harry pops out of his chair, only realizing after opening the door that he is still only clothed in his tiny black pants. Naked is usually Harry's natural state so it honestly didn't bother him as much as he was worried it might bother the person now holding up several bags of take out in his face. He tips the teenager before securing the door once again and returning to the table. 

 

“I ordered Chinese food, I hope you don't mind. I had some extra money for this week because... well... I wasn't spending it while we were...” he blushes once again as he pulls out each steaming to-go box. Louis' mouth was visibly watering as he glances over so he allows himself to take that as approval. He brings over two plates and silverware for them, neither speaking as they tuck into the well deserved and needed meal. 

 

Harry wouldn't point it out but he became certain there were tears in Louis' eyes as he savoured each bite like he had been living on The Lion King bug chow diet for most of his life. For all Harry knew, maybe he had. They had never properly discussed how Louis' actually survived, not at all really. The curiosity he once held towards Louis as he first saw him sneaking down the street had morphed into something more substantial as they spent time together. He wasn't just curious about the mysterious shadow anymore, he genuinely wanted to learn every detail of his life. He wanted the pieces of Louis' past to ingrain themselves into him, intertwine with his own life story, two perspectives of the same path that brought them both to this point. He wanted it to be  _their_ story. 

 

They continue eating in silence, the weight of their conversation and the empty clenching of their unfed stomachs pressing for their attention. He takes a moment between bites to let the situation actually sink in for him. He was no longer a virgin, Chinese food had never tasted so good and Louis was finally in  _his_ space. It was no less than those three thoughts that brought a fond grin to his face, the corners of his mouth twitching up further with each bite. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr but I'm mostly just really good at hitting the reblog button jaerie.tumblr.com


End file.
